


The Last Snow Elf

by Kira_Evangeline



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Main character is not Dovahkiin, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-11 01:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 64,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7019620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kira_Evangeline/pseuds/Kira_Evangeline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ariel was a traveler, running from her past for years. Upon finding Skyrim, she finds herself feeling more at home than ever as she meets fearless warriors and daring thieves who lead her up to her destined greatness...but to what end?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Skyrim

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!  
> So this story has been up a while on my Fanfiction account and is still active. However, due to school and such, I have to take long breaks in writing. Every time I come back, I need to read the whole thing to get back into it yada yada yada. I decided to create an AO3 account a few months back, and figured it was the perfect chance to: A) Expand my influence(or whatever), B) Edit the story, and C) Read through the story so I can start the next chapter.  
> SO If you like what you see here, please feel free to jump over to my FFNet account to read on in the unedited version - linked on my profile. Also, please check out my tumblr, also linked on my profile. It's not interesting, but it's a place for my readers to drop comments/fanart/asks/whatever, and I always post update announcements on there. Plus I would just love to interact with my followers more!
> 
> Also, Please be aware - I have looked up the timeline for TES and will be messing with it just slightly. If that bothers you, I'm sorry. Buuuut I'm doing it. 
> 
> That said, here's chapter 1! Enjoy!

4E 200: 17th of Last Seed - 10:42 am.

What wretched luck.

Years she had spent running. From what and to what end, she could not say. It felt right, to escape her past, her isolation, the facts… She could not handle the thought of them. She had seen death, brutal murder not four feet away from her, brought forth by those she once trusted. Many familiar bodies littered the ground as she ran. She had barely escaped.

And so she kept escaping. But now, with something simple that she had accomplished many times, she was at the mercy of the divines. Crossing a simple border. That's all she had to do. Leave one land that had been thoroughly explored, and enter another, one she had heard of in her trips through Morrowind.  
Skyrim.

Now, as she awoke in a confused haze, she found her hands bound and her body dressed with rags of what the robes once were. She pushed herself up from her half-seated half-slouched-over position, her back aching in protest and her head pounding. Unsure of where she was or what was happening, she pulled at the binds, testing them, before a voice caught her attention.

"Hey, you! You're finally awake." She looked over at the man sitting across from her on the carriage, slightly alarmed by his rough call. His voice was low and a bit gravelly, matching his disheveled appearance. His yellow hair and pale face was covered in dirt, his beard nearly brown from it. Green eyes looked over her with interest. "You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us and that thief over there." He nodded his head to his left, indicating the man sitting near him. She looked over at the thief. He had sharp, dark features, his eyes heavily tinted with the darkness of exhaustion. His hair was black, and he too was covered in dirt. She wondered if she looked the same, right now. Striking blue eyes looked up at her, filled with annoyance and uncertainty. He turned to the man that had been speaking, glaring.

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy." He spat, his tone bitter. His voice smoothed out and quieted slightly as he continued. "If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." He turned his gaze back to her, his expression unreadable. "You there, you and me…we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the empire wants."

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds, now."

"Shut up back there!" She turned her head quickly to her left to see a soldier in Imperial armor leading the carriage, which followed another full of men and women dressed much like this man with yellow hair. She looked behind them at the Imperial on the horse, following their carriage as support. She had never once heard of the Stormcloaks during her time in Cyrodiil. She didn't even know what they represented.

"And what's wrong with him, huh?" She looked back over as the thief motioned toward the last man on the carriage. He, too, had yellow hair. His features seemed similar to those of the first man, with slightly sunken eyes and a strong jaw. He looked up at the thief, mouth bound as well as ankles. His armor was drastically different from the others.

"Watch your tongue!" The angry response was unexpected, causing her to jump slightly in surprise. "You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King."

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion!" She almost rolled her eyes. With the last name of Stormcloak, was it really necessary to point out? "But if they've captured you…Oh gods, where are they taking us?" Suddenly, she could relate to this thief. A rebellion against the Empire. And here they were, in Imperial hands.  
And she was with them.

"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." Oh, well she certainly didn't like the sound of that. Not for knowledge of Sovngarde, but his tone spoke of a bleak end.  
Years of escaping…for this? What was happening? Too much information was being thrown at her far too fast.  
"No, this can't be happening, this isn't happening!" The thief's' fear was contagious, though she wouldn't dare speak it aloud. She could feel it, throughout her body. Her heart was beating strongly, quickly, pumping adrenaline through her body as she was tempted to push herself out of the carriage and run. It had become difficult to breathe, and she looked forward again as she waited for something to save her. A pack of wolves, a bear, anything to cause enough of a distraction.

"Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?"

"Why do you care?"

"A Nords last thoughts should be of home." The statement was spoken softly, and she looked down at her hands. It was a good thing, not being a Nord. She had no home to think of.

"Rorikstead. I'm…from Rorikstead."

"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!"

"Good, let's get this over with." The two Imperials on horses spoke at the gate as they went through. Nausea hit her like an avalanche, her luck had run dry. There would be no escaping, now.  
She was going to die.

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me!" The thief muttered in panic, his eyes wide and fearful. Yet as he finished calling to the gods, she couldn't help the bitterness that ran through her. She had no faith left.

"Look at him. General Tullius the military governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this." The yellow haired man said, his voice venomous. She wasn't sure whether she should feel some sort of offence to his generalized term for mer, but brushed it off. What did it matter, anyway? She looked past the thief to where the golden shine of elven armor gleamed. Yes, she recognized the Thalmor from Cyrodiil, as well. Altmer from Summerset Isle, who had taken control of Skyrims' Empire. All of her encounters with them had been fairly pleasant or neutral, but she could understand his bitterness, as a native of this land.

Shouldn't she, then, be upset? But she wasn't. That was long ago, before it ever concerned her.  
She looked forward again as silence passed. They rode through a narrow path, houses running behind her and a stone wall in front of her. It gave a cozy feeling. Safe.

"This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in. Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe." He said softly, sadness in his voice. The carriage turned slightly to the right, and she caught a glimpse of a young boy on a porch.

"Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?"

"You need to go inside, little cub." The man spoke with warmth, and she could have smiled, if the threat of death weren't so close to her.

"But why? I wanna watch the soldiers!"

"Inside the house. Now."

"Yes, papa." She watched with sadness as the boy stood to leave, until the carriage turned and she could no longer observe the small house and young child. That's when she saw it. The large axe, held in the hands of a large, muscular man with a hood. All too quickly, the panic hit her with new vigor.  
She still barely understood what was happening.  
An Imperial woman barked orders at her soldiers as the prisoners of the other carriage were herded off.

"Why are we stopping?" The thief looked over at the yellow-haired man with desperation, as if he could change the situation.

"Why do you think? End of the line." The statement left a heavy, cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. Their carriage stopped all too soon, and she could hear the thief's labored breaths from where she sat. "Let's go, better not keep the gods waiting for us." And he stood, with no fear in his eyes. Only acceptance. She followed, as did the thief and Ulfric Stormcloak. Despite the thief’s pleading, they were herded off the carriage one by one, standing in front of two Imperial soldiers. One held a quill in his right hand, a list in his left. The other spoke, her voice harsh and commanding.

"Step towards the block when we call your name, one at a time."

"Empire loves their damn lists." She heard from her left, where the yellow-haired man stood.

The Stormcloak leader was called first, and he walked over without a glance. Her yellow-haired companion was next, Ralof of Riverwood, leaving her feeling alone and uncomfortable.  
The thief was next. "Lokir of Rorikstead." The thief stepped forward.

"No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" He ran, and for a moment, she watched in awe, as if he would possibly escape, as if it were possible for her…  
An arrow pierced his back. His scream rang in her ears. Her heart dropped as his body did, and her eyes slid over to the soldiers in front of her.

"Anybody else feel like running?" The woman asked, looking directly at her. She kept her face blank, but her heart sank. A simple thief, looking to escape the land that was quickly turning into her hell. She spent a moment to wonder why she even bothered leaving Morrowind.

"Wait, you there. Step forward." Her attention was drawn to the man with the list, hesitating before following his command. "Who are you?"

"Ariel." She replied tensely, her voice barely above a whisper. The man looked down at the list in his hands, then back up.

"I've never seen an elf so..pale. Are you a wood elf? No…you must be a dark elf." She would have assured him she was neither, if he would have cared to listen. Instead, he turned to the woman. "Captain, what should we do? She's not on the list." The woman stared at her with suspicion and annoyance.

"Forget the list." She said quickly. "She goes to the block."

Hatred flared, for only a moment. How dare she assume she was an outlaw? Was she? It didn't matter, as they seemed unable to even identify her race.

"By your orders, captain." The soldier looked back at her, his features softening. "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are return to Morrowind." Close enough. She thought bitterly. "Follow the captain, prisoner." And she did, stopping only when she joined the group of Stormcloaks. She paid no attention as the general addressed the leader of the Stormcloaks, too occupied by the sight of the block, covered in old blood. There had been a beheading recently, after the last rain had fallen. Her blood would soil that block, soon.  
Fate had finally caught up to her, it seemed.

Suddenly, a strange sound was heard from the sky. Everyone looked up in curiosity, and she heard someone mutter "What was that?" from her right. She looked over to see the soldier that had apologized to her making his way to the block, frozen for only a moment as he searched the sky.

"Nothing. Carry on." The general commanded. The captain responded and commanded the priestess to give them their rites. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Rites. What good were they, now? The priestess began, holding her hands up toward the sky as if speaking directly to the divines.  
Luckily for Ariel, the man to her right cut the young woman off.

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with!" He said, stepping forward to the block.

"As you wish." She responded, her tone a mixture of surprise and anger.

"Come on! I haven't got all morning." He said strongly, the captain approaching him. Ariel could only hope to be so courageous. Her natural, sarcastic side wished she could have met this man on the road, in better circumstances than this. The captain pushed him to his knees, then further until his head rested on the block. "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" No response was given, but Ariel found herself wishing with all her power that she had even a single clue what the hell was going on, and why she was dying for it. The executioner lifted the axe high above his head dramatically, and she tried her best to tear her eyes away, but as the axe swung down, her eyes followed.

His head fell neatly into the basket on the other side of the block, and the captain nudged his body away from the block with her foot. It was a clean cut. Blood poured out of his neck onto the block and the ground. She truly felt like she would be sick, her body shaking and thoughts too loud and quick to sort through as shouts of discontent were heard from the Stormcloaks surrounding her.

"As fearless in death as he was in life." She looked to her right at the man, Ralof, who stared down at his fallen comrade with sadness.

"Next, the elf!" Panic. Pure panic. She almost didn't hear the sound from before, echoing again through the sky. Whatever it was couldn't save her, and as the soldier questioned it again, the captain repeated her order.

"To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy." The soldier said, but his eyes looked at her with tenderness. Had she cared, she would say he didn't want to see her die. She was only slightly grateful for that. Ulfric Stormcloak and Ralof watched her, she could see, as she stepped forward to the block. Standing in front of it, as the other man did, she locked eyes with the soldier. It calmed her, knowing someone cared that she was about to be killed for nothing. But as she felt the hand on her back, roughly pushing her forward, the feeling was gone. She turned her head to the side, though she immediately regretted the direction of choice as she locked eyes with the executioner, his bloody axe in his hand. She looked to the right of him as he brought his other hand to the axe, raising it slightly. Her eyes found a flag, moving freely in the wind, blowing snow off the mountain behind it…where a large…black creature flew…  
And somehow, she knew, as a roar accompanied its appearance, that it wasn't an ordinary bird.

"What in oblivion is that?" The general yelled, the creature landing on the tower and looking down at them as the executioner raised the axe over his head. The force of the creature landing shook the ground so violently that the executioner lost balance and fell back, giving her the perfect view of the horrifying creature before her.  
"Dragon!" At the yell, the dragon spoke; sending a wave of what must have been air at them. She was knocked to the ground, away from the block and the dragon, but her head hit the stone with such force that her vision blurred and she felt her consciousness threaten to leave her. Her ears were left ringing from the noise, but she could dimly hear the screams from around her.

"Hey, elf! Get up! Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!" She felt a hand wrap around her arm and she was hauled to her feet, Ralof entering her blurred vision. "This way!" He pulled her behind him to a tower nearby, where he slammed the door shut behind her the moment she was clear. "Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends be true?" As her sight cleared, Ariel observed the man, now completely unbound.  
Ulfric spoke, his words slow and his voice incredibly low.

"Legends don't burn down villages." He said simply, his eyes showing little fear. Ariel looked behind her for anything to cut her binds, finding wounded Stormcloak soldiers instead. "We need to move, now!" He yelled, immediately after another roar could be heard from outside the tower. Ralof turned toward her.  
"Up through the tower, let's go!" He commanded, and she followed without a word. Anything to get out of this mess. She couldn't decide as she ran up the stairs whether she would have rather died at the block, or by dragon.  
The block was winning.

"Just need to move some of these rocks." A soldier said, leaning down to push one out of their way, but the wall crumbled. She nearly ran into Ralof, who stopped short on the steps as the dragon breathed fire and fried the soldier. The dragon flew away immediately, uninterested in life and looking rather to cause destruction instead. Ralof motioned for her to follow as he continued up the steps to the blockage, looking out the new window.

"See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going!"

"Are you nuts?" She finally said, looking at him as if he had told her to jump on the back of the dragon.

"Just go! We'll follow when we can!" He all but pushed her out, and it took everything she had to not scream as she flew through the air, crashing painfully through the open roof and onto the floor, which crumbled and gave way to the second floor. She took a moment to groan, her body aching all over, but found energy to push herself up as she again heard another roar. She stood, gaining her balance as she squinted for an exit through the smoke and flames, her lungs burning in protest to the heat and debris. Just as she had begun a coughing fit did she find the doorway, and she forced her way through to be met with a familiar soldier, boy and a citizen of the keep.

"Still alive, prisoner?" She looked up at the soldier who addressed her. "Stay close to me if you want to stay that way." He stated, turning to give orders to the man and boy. She could not help to question his words as the dragon landed down the road, and all four of them took cover from the fire it breathed in their direction. "Come on, prisoner!" He stood and started running as soon as the dragon took flight, and she had no choice but to follow, ignoring all the calls of the soldiers around her, captains yelling orders and families screaming in terror. She followed him between buildings, following his orders as he scrambled to avoid the dragon as much as she. "Stay close to the wall!" He yelled, the dragon landing on the wall to their left. Its wing was huge, arching over the wall and over her, nearly touching her. She was terrified, moving away from it and toward the soldier as it continued its attack before flying off again. "Okay, let's go!" He moved again, leading her through destroyed houses and away from the road. They reached what she assumed was a place of safety, as he assured her they were almost at their destination, when a familiar face ran through from another direction. "Ralof, you damn traitor, out of my way!"

"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time!"

"Fine, I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!"

"You, come on! Into the keep!" Ralof yelled, beckoning for her to join him. The soldier ran to another door.

"With me, prisoner! Come on!" She froze, both men calling for her. The soldier looked panicked, continually calling for her, telling her she would be safe. Ralof called out not to trust the Imperial. With so much pressure, she ran left toward the soldier, following him into the keep. He slammed the door shut and backed away from it before taking a look around the room. "Looks like we're the only ones who made it." He said, a bit of sadness in his voice. "Could that thing really have been a dragon? The creatures from stories and legends?" He seemed to be talking more to himself than her, but no matter. She wouldn't have had an answer for him anyway. Suddenly, he turned his gaze to her. "We better get moving. Come here, let me see if I can get those bindings off." Finally. She moved closer, and he brought his sword to the ropes, cutting them neatly. She was so close to him, she took this moment to examine him.

He looked just like all the other imperial men she had met in Cyrodiil. Not as tall as Nords, but with a wider facial structure and wider set eyes, which happened to be brown. His hair was a mix of yellow and brown, brushed back and falling to his jaw line. It was hard to miss the large muscles on this man, watching them bulge as he brought his arms forward to release her.

She examined her red wrists, rubbing them lightly from the ache. There were angry red marks there, sure to bruise. If they had the chance, of course. She stepped back from him, not meeting his eyes. She wanted to ask him all of the questions she had in her head, why she was even there, what was happening, but she could not form the words. In fact, she could barely find her voice.

"Search the chests on that side of the room. Hopefully one of them will have some armor for you. Or, at the very least, clothes." He said, moving to her left. She glanced around the room for the first time, spotting the two chests to her right. The room was simple, with four beds and a desk surrounded by bookshelves. Directly across from her, a gate stood blocking their exit. Three steps brought her to the first chest, set at the end of the only bed on this side of the room. Attempting to lift the top brought no results, the lock mechanism holding the top on tight.

"It's locked." She muttered, but he heard her, not even glancing over.

"Try the other one." She abandoned the locked chest and moved to the last chest, lined against the wall and covered with a fine layer of dust. Lifting the top, she was grateful for the sight of Imperial armor.

"I found some armor!" She announced, a wave of relief washing through her. At least now she'd have a chance of protection.

"Quickly, get changed and grab a sword. Let me know when you're finished." He said, moving to where the bookcase was, blocking his view from her. She quickly removed the rags and pulled on the armor and boots, hooking the straps on the top piece of the jacket. The armor fit loosely on her tiny figure, obviously having been made for a lean male.

"Ok!" She said, turning to the weapon rack closest to her. She grabbed a sword, unsure of what its alloy was and unable to care. She was only grateful that it wasn't all that heavy, though holding the weapon felt strange. She was far more used to her little elven dagger, which she had purposefully left in Morrowind. She had brought with her an iron dagger instead.  
A brief thought flickered to where that dagger might be, at this moment.

"Here." She turned, sword in hand, back to the soldier. He held out a leather helmet to her. "It was in another chest. You'll need all the protection you can get." He stated, moving to the gate that was not too far from her. She slipped the helmet on, sheathing the blade in the leather sleeve on her hip. "Come on, let's see if we can get out of here." He said, pulling the chain next to the gate and watching as it ascended slowly. She followed him close through the halls, unsure of whether or not she made the right choice in following the Imperial man. He seemed nice enough, but there was a reason for every rebellion, right?

They walked in silence, save for the thunking of their boots hitting the floor. They walked, but it was swift, with the threat of death still hanging in the air. Soon, the hall opened up to a small room, barred with another gate.  
"We have to get out of here."

"I know. I just need a minute to catch my breath." The soldier looked back at her.

"Hear that? Stormcloaks. Maybe we can reason with them." He said softly, moving to the left where the gate chain was. Ariel watched as it lifted and the Stormcloaks moved from around the corner, their eyes searching for whoever opened the gate. They both unsheathed their weapons, glaring at the sight of Imperial armor. "Now wait a minute, we just want to-" He was cut off by the cry of the male Stormcloak, who rushed at him with his sword. Her Imperial friend quickly unsheathed his own weapon and blocked the attack, pushing the man back. "You want to die? Fine!" He yelled, anger in his voice. Her heart rate jumped again as the female rebel looked over at her. She knew she had no choice, her hand reaching for the sword at her hip, barely hearing the sharp shiiing of the metal against the sheathe. The sword felt so wrong, and she moved sloppily as she pushed forward and blocked the downswing of the Stormcloak. Her moves were defensive as the woman angrily swung at her, and Ariel realized she had to do something or face death as a coward.

Gritting her teeth, she took the first opening she could find, the woman raising the sword high above her head. Ariel took one step forward, shoving the blade at her stomach. She hadn't felt any resistance. She thought she'd missed, her heart pounding as she waited for the sword to come down on her head. But it never did, and she looked up to find her blade planted deep within the abdomen of the woman. She met the rebels' eyes, watching as the life drained from them. The sword dropped to the ground, her body became limp. She fell, nearly taking Ariel with her.

"Are you alright?" She didn't hear his question. She watched as the last breath left the body, as the woman became completely, peacefully still.

She'd hurt people before. She had to, as a traveler. Bandits, thieves, misunderstanding guards. She'd wounded them before, until they could no longer pursue her, and only if she could not sneak by them.  
But never had she killed a person.

The soldier came over, ripping her sword out from the dead soldier. "Never killed, before, eh? I recognize that look. Now's not the time to fall into shock. We need to get out of here." He said softly, holding the sword out for her. She hesitantly took it, unfazed by the blood as she sheathed it again. "You should take her gauntlets." He muttered, moving to open the gate on the other side of the room. Bending down, she tried not to feel like a horrible being as she stripped the lifeless body of her gloves and slipped them on. They were still warm, but she didn't allow herself to be bothered by this thought. She wanted to live another day. "Ready? Good. Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know in the comments below!  
> Also, I won't let this go unannounced here, but the story as it exists right now is in pretty good shape, I think (Which, I usually don't say. Go me for confidence?) Anyway, it's because of a really wonderful friend of mine that some of these chapters flow really well, and my bad habits aren't ruining everything. So, I'm going to give a shout-out right off the bat to my awesome friend for...well, being awesome. You guys should check them out! Their SN is **Futsch**! They've got a pretty great Skyrim thing going on. Go be there. ROS is one of my favorite fics.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it, and I will See You All Next Update


	2. Companions

4E 200: 19th of Sun's Dusk - 8:15 pm

"So that was your introduction to Skyrim, huh?" Ariel looked over at the woman standing beside her, leaning against the wall just outside of Whiterun Hold. She had been in Skyrim now for a little over three months, moving between Whiterun and Riverwood as needed. Larena had been the first person she met on the road, and she felt an easy connection as she often did other travelers. The two had spent quite a bit of time in Whiterun together, Larena even joining her on her last trip to Riverwood.

Larena was a Bosmer, smaller in build than she. A tiny thing, but fierce with her blade and quick on her feet. She had dark brown hair that was chopped off at about chin length, kept short for battle; a feature Ariel had suggested. Her eyes were slightly uptilted but open, showing soft red eyes. Her facial structure was very angled, much like most of the other mer she had met in the past. She wore steel armor, though often preferred leaving off her helmet, hanging it off of her belt should she ever require the extra protection. On the opposite side, her sword was sheathed; a lovely piece of steel that she had bought from the Skyforge.

"Not ideal, but yes." Ariel had not shown her face since leaving Helgen. She had bought herself some basic black robes from the Riverwood trader, the only thing she could afford at the time. Using the imperial armor, she had created a ridiculous looking cowl to hide the majority of her face. Hadvar, her Imperial friend, hadn't stopped laughing at her since.

Now, however, after helping a few people around Whiterun and Riverwood, she had earned a nice bit of coin. She bought a nice set of dark blue mage clothes, preferring the light and silent travel, as well as full body coverage.  
Why did every armor set available require the showing of cleavage?

She had been quite surprised to see mage clothes at the traders' shop in Whiterun. Belethor, whose shop she had spent a lot of time in for anything but weaponry, was a…strange man, in her eyes. He seemed a bit shady, and she was unsure of whether or not she could fully trust the man. However, the more she found herself visiting the trader, the more she found herself having relaxed conversation with the Breton. The dark blue robes had yet to receive an enchantment, but were light and easy to move with. Not to mention, they covered all of her skin, wrapping her legs to her leather boots and her arms to her steel gauntlets.  
She still had to handcraft her own cowl, which she made using a piece of her old black robes.

"It's getting late. I think I'm going to head back." Larena said, pushing herself away from the wall and stretching. "You heading to the inn?" She asked, turning toward her. Ariel shrugged.

"I suppose. I don't have anywhere else to go, anyway." Ariel too left the support of the wall, looking up at the pink and orange clouds.

"Hey, listen. I know you said you weren't interested in joining any groups or anything but…Jorvaskr still has some empty beds for Companions." Ariel shot a look of annoyance at Larena, who gave her a mockingly timid smile. "Hey, come on. You get to travel, do some jobs, get some coin…and who knows, you might find someone there you like talking to." She said, turning away. "I'll tell the Harbinger to expect you." Ariel didn't respond, letting her eyes wander over the land in front of her. She had begun to feel that all too familiar itch of a seasoned traveler. She wanted to explore Skyrim, even with her grim entrance.

And, to get some coin on the side, and companionship? She could use some connections. Ariel turned to where Larena had been walking away, but found the sneaky Wood Elf already gone. She smiled to herself for a moment. A silent companion was a good companion, after all. Ariel began her trip back to the inn, unwilling to fight her way through the boisterous crowd that cluttered the bar when darkness fell.

"Welcome back, Traveler." The guard gate greeted her, opening the giant door for her. She nodded in response without stopping. Many of the people of Whiterun had become accustomed to her quiet nature, choosing not to make idle conversation with her when she was present. She found most of the citizens to be pleasant, always kind and welcoming to her presence, as well as most other travelers who had passed through. In fact, Ariel could see herself calling this hold home, were it not so against her learned nature.

"Ariel!" She stopped her quick steps, turning to her left and looking for the source of the call. The Bosmer male practically jumped down the steps, just outside of The Drunken Huntsman.

"Anoriath, hello." She said, her voice firm yet friendly.

"Back from your travels, I see. Where's your other half?" He asked, smirking at her. She noticed the bow strapped to his back. At this hour, he must have been getting ready to hunt.

"Making her way to shelter, I'm sure. As am I."

"Actually…I was going to ask if you'd like to join me? I remember you mentioned hunting the last time we spoke." Ariel looked into his hopeful eyes, holding back a sigh. She had thought hiding her face from the world would cause an overall lack of interest, but it seemed this man appreciated her mystery.

"I'm sorry, Anoriath. Perhaps another time, but I am actually quite tired." After all, she had missed sleep for about three days. While used to it, she could feel the exhaustion in her muscles. She watched his hopeful expression fall with very slight remorse.

"Oh, yes. Another time, then. Good evening." He said, nodding once at her. She took the opportunity, moving forward towards The Bannered Mare. Most of the people she passed either ignored her or nodded a greeting in her direction, much to her liking. She stepped into the inn without any more interruptions, finding the early crowd already taking their seats. Jon, one of the first Nords she had met in the hold, sat at the bar, already drinking. The man noticed her and waved, offering her a small smile. She approached, her eyes set on the barkeeper, but she sat next to Jon.

"Hello again, friend. I suppose you're looking to rent a room?" Hulda asked, currently busy wiping out a tankard.

"As per usual." She responded shortly, reaching into the pouch on her belt and retrieving ten septims.

"Feel like sharing a few drinks?" She heard from her right, looking over to meet Jon's eyes. Normally she would have declined, but a small smile graced her lips.

"If you pay, then of course." She said lightly. Jon smiled before turning to Hulda.

"How about a bit of Black-Briar for the lady?" The full tankard was placed in front of her almost immediately, and Ariel watched as Jon laid several septims on the counter. "Tell me, how have your travels been?" Ariel leaned on the counter, yawning before wrapping her hand around the tankard.

"Well. I feel the work has run dry, though. Perhaps you could offer me some information?" She asked, bringing the tankard to her lips before pulling down her cowl. She'd practiced this simple motion a thousand times, just to be sure of the angle, and the flexibility of the cowl. She hid her face well.

"Of course. What would you ask?" He responded quickly. Ariel enjoyed conversations with Jon Battle-Born. He was a poetic man; typical, of a bard. Regardless, it was a nice change from the common rabble.

"A friend of mine recommended I join a group…The Companions. Know of them?" Jon sat up straight, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"What sort of question is that? Of course I know of them. They are the greatest warriors in Skyrim!"

"Do go on." She said flatly, uninterested in lore. She wanted proof.

"Well," He began, before pausing to finish off his mead. He dropped the tankard onto the counter with a bit more force than he intended, but continued nonetheless. "That is how they are known. They travel all over Skyrim, and occasionally outside lands, if the gold is good. They have taken down every type of beast you can think of. The Companions are, of course, traced back to Ysgramor and the five hundred, which he led into battle against the elves." Ariel tensed slightly. Yes, Ysgramor. She had heard of him in her brief and vague history lessons from her mother.

"He…is the reason why a race of elves-"

"They sought their own extinction." Jon cut her off. "It's their own fault for attacking the Atmora." Well this was certainly news to her.

"Is that what your Nord books tell you?" She asked, careful with her tone as she spoke. Jon gave her a curious look.

"It's fact. I'd expect even a Dark Elf to know of this history." He stated, eyebrow raised.

Hell, if Hadvar thought her a dark elf, than she found it to be a nice little backup plan.

Ariel simply shrugged, her eyes resting on her tankard. She was entirely uninterested in drinking, now. Jon observed her for a moment before looking over at the barmaid, busy sweeping the floor behind the counter. He raised his tankard and she nodded, rushing to fill it with his usual order. "Listen, whatever you may be thinking, the companions won't kill you because you're an elf. I believe they have two elves there now!" Ariel scoffed. Of course they wouldn't kill her. "You should join up. It's an honorable path to walk; one that will reveal much of Skyrim to you. You get a bed, food and mead, training; I don't know anyone who wouldn't take the offer. A traveler such as yourself surely has the skill to impress." He said, taking a full swig of his drink. Ariel stood, gaining his full attention.

"I appreciate your help, Jon, as usual. Good night." She said, moving toward the stairs. The inn may have been busy each night, but Whiterun never received a large number of travelers looking for a place to rest their head. She felt secure in moving to the room she was normally given. The door shut heavily behind her, and she let out a long, relieved sigh. She began the process of stripping for sleep, removing her iron dagger and steel shortsword from her belt. Reaching back, she removed her imperial bow as well as the quiver of steel arrows. Her weapons and belt now laid on the table in front of her, she stretched, moaning softly at the wonderful burning her muscles gave her before glancing at the window to note that darkness had fallen.  
Perhaps Jon was right. The Companions' could prove to be worth her time. As her eyes closed, she decided to visit Jorvaskr tomorrow. After all, how could it hurt?

* * *

20th of Sun's Dusk - 11:27 am

* * *

Jorvaskr was beautiful.

Outside, the hall seemed rather…unimpressive. It looked to be an ordinary building, with a boat as a roof, old and in poor shape. But upon entering…

It had to have been the most beautiful mead hall she'd ever stepped foot in. Its vibrant gold and red colors were found on banners and in the rug, reflecting the light of the giant fire in the center that was surrounded on three sides by tables, nine chairs included. Each corner of the room held a bench or small table, giving the hall a very open and welcoming feel. She would have observed the weapons and shields hung around the room in great detail, but an argument between a Dunmer and Nord had broken out to her left, drawing not only her attention, but everyone else's.

"I could beat you anyday! Just because you've been here longer doesn't mean you're tougher! Let's go!" She stood, bringing her fists up. The elf followed.

"You'd dare fight a Dunmer? Have you learned nothing?" Several people ran over from throughout the hall, cheering for one or the other, and blocking her view entirely as the woman threw the first punch.

"Seems like you're destined for bad introductions." Turning, Ariel found Larena smirking at her, arms crossed over her chest.

"Yes, it does seem that way. What is the issue?"

"Nothing, those two always get into arguments. We usually just let them kick each other's ass until the problem is resolved." She said, shrugging. "So, did you make up your mind, then? Here to join?" Ariel simply shrugged.

"Can't hurt." Larena grinned.

"Good, follow me." Larena turned, walking quickly to a staircase Ariel hadn't noticed before, opposite to where the fight was. She held the door open as Ariel passed through before letting it shut on its own. "Kodlak is kind, don't worry." Ariel raised an eyebrow at Larena's back, following her through the living quarters of Jorvaskr. "He'll size you up and decide whether or not he likes you." She said nonchalantly. They passed through a doorway into a room that looked very cozy. It followed Jorvaskr's gold and red theme, with weapon plaques on the wall and cases on tables. But this room was also more personal, with a desk in one corner and a small table in another, two chairs set with it. One was occupied.

"Ah, yet another stranger enters Jorvaskr. Sister, who have you brought to me?"

"A good friend of mine, Harbinger." She said, moving out of the way. The old man, Kodlak Whitemane, looked up at her from his seat, studying her. Ariel couldn't help but think of the irony of his name. His hair color could rival her own. He was undoubtedly a Nord, with as strong a structure as the rest, but his eyes held wisdom and intelligence one could only find in a seasoned warrior. She'd be willing to bet he'd seen it all; he certainly looked weathered. She noticed the scar on the left side of his face, just under his eye, as well as the light war paint under his right. This man was proud. Finally, she took in his unique armor. She had never seen anything like it, with aspects of both heavy plate armor and light leather or cloth armor.

"You seem careful to cover yourself, stranger. I wonder if there is a reason you require full coverage." He stated simply, his eyes trained on hers. No doubt he was examining the tiny amount of exposed white skin.

"Nothing illegal, I assure you." She responded clearly, resisting the urge to look away. As he continued to study her eyes, she suddenly became nervous. This man's ancestors killed her kind; fought for an elf-free Skyrim. What was she thinking, walking in here with the intention to join?

"What is your name, warrior?" He finally asked. Well, it was too late now.

"Ariel." She kept her voice strong, despite the turmoil she felt.

"Well, Ariel. Let's see what you can do, shall we? Come, I will introduce you to your shield-siblings." The Harbinger stood, finally taking his eyes off of her as he began leading her back to the staircase. Ariel followed without question, Larena not far behind her.  
That was it? No three hour interview? No test of speed and agility? She was in?  
Kodlak held open the back door for her as she stepped out, her eyes passing over the deck before observing the Companions hard at work in the training field.  
"Here we are." He said, groaning slightly as he sat, much like older men do. "Please, sit." Ariel did so, sitting on the bench of the closest table to him.

"I think I'll go continue training, if you'll excuse me." Larena said, flashing a smile to Ariel before continuing out to the field.

"Well, this is a more comfortable environment. I am sure you have questions, and I advise you ask them before I send you on your first job." His eyes were locked back on hers, and she felt that nervousness rise again. Did he know? How could he possibly? Ariel pushed down the uneasy feelings. She had the opportunity to learn more from this man.

"What exactly is this place?"

"Jorvaskr has been around for ages, and has always been a home to the Companions. We spend our days here, a family who trains together, travels together, and celebrates together. I assume you know that our roots began with Ysgramor, but we are much different from those who fought alongside him."

"So, then, who are you?"

"Well, you'll find that some of us have spent a good deal of our lives pondering that very question." He said, leaning back in his chair. "The difference between a noble band of warriors and a ragged bunch of assassins is as thin as a blade's edge. I try to hold us to the right path. The path of family, and the path of glory in battle, and honor in life. Deal with problems head on. Leave whispers and sneaking to the gutter rats who can't fight for themselves." Ariel almost stood up and left. Stealth was a tool to be used, one she favored. That didn't make her weak in direct battle. It made her able to take down legions on her own, able to use logic and reasoning even in the heat of battle. Here sat this man, who obviously knew very little of such tactics, insulting her way of life.

Ariel took a calming breath. He had no idea what she had experienced in her travels, or what she had to do to survive. He was taught in the way of head-on battle. There was no reason to feel offended.

"I believe I know everything I need to. What is this job you mentioned?" Kodlak simply smiled before looking out to the grounds. He beckoned someone over, and as Ariel looked, she found a tall, strong Nord man approaching. His head was mostly bald, making him look older than he probably was, though the gray hair that could be found certainly didn't help. A long scar ran down his left cheek from his eye, which she noticed was dull in color. He had two horizontal stripes of black war paint on both cheeks, and looked at her with judgmental eyes.

"Ariel, this is Skjor. He handles the new bloods, and prepares them to become real Jorvaskr warriors." Kodlak said, nodding to Skjor before standing. "He will be handling your first few jobs."

"Welcome to Jorvaskr, new blood." Skjor spoke, crossing his arms over his chest. His voice was deep and almost rough. "Before I trust you to do anything, I'd like to see how you handle yourself. Follow me to the grounds; we'll see how you stand up against Vilkas." She stood, following him as he moved quickly toward the yard. At the bottom of the steps sat the two people she recognized as the brawlers, but she spent no more time in observing them. She did, however, observe the man Skjor called to.

Vilkas, another Nord, stood slightly shorter than most Nord men she'd seen, though that seemed to be the only shortcoming. By the way his armor fit him, which, she noted, was the same armor Kodlak and Skjor wore, she could see he was well built and strong. His hair was dark brown, his chin covered in light stubble. He seemed to be just as observant as Skjor, taking in her appearance with distaste. Ariel chalked it up to the mage robes.

"A new blood, huh?" He lifted the greatsword he had been using to train, bringing it up in a defensive position. "Give me a few swings and let me see what you've got." Vilkas had a heavy accent which resembled that of older, more traditional Nord men she had met in her travels. She had to admit…it was one of her favorite accents.

With a small smirk, she unsheathed her blade. Aware of all eyes resting on her, she lowered into her common battle stance; left foot back, knees bent, back straight, head high. Ariel brought the sword up and swung it down, letting it connect against his before rapidly bringing it back and down, swinging in to his left side. He blocked that, too. Finally, she brought it back straight and thrust forward for a jab, faking him out at the last moment by stepping forward and spinning, the jab becoming a heavy swing to his right side.  
He barely dodged that. So, creativity was not expected from "new bloods."

"That'll do." He said, nodding before looking over at Skjor, who returned the gesture.

The self-appointed badass atmosphere was stronger here than she ever could have imagined.

"Looks like you can handle yourself well enough. Lucky for you, we have a job available right now that we were going to send one of the other whelps on. But you'll do." Skjor said, and she raised an eyebrow.

Whelps?

"Farkas!"

* * *

28th of Sun's Dusk - 9:37 pm

* * *

"So, how'd ya do?" Ariel sent a glare at Larena, who had jumped on Ariel's bed, nearly knocking the tired woman off.

"Get off, you have your own." She muttered grumpily, turning away from the tiny elf and pulling her blanket over her shoulder.

"After you tell me." She said, grinning. Ariel rolled her eyes, tossing her cover off of her and sitting up, annoyance in her eyes.

No one else was in the quarters with them, and Larena had the sense to shut the door behind her when she entered. No, most of the companions were upstairs eating and drinking.

"Farkas is not the brightest person I've ever come across." She whispered, her eyes wide. "Don't get me wrong, he's kind, and a great warrior. But..." She didn’t complete the thought, and Larena smiled in response.

"Yeah, he was my shield-brother when we went to collect a fragment of Wuuthrad in some tomb."

"Well, turns out he's afraid of spiders. I had to kill them all myself, five huge ones. They're…disgusting." She said, shuddering. She never did like spiders, and the large, fierce man had cowered from them immediately. Ariel wondered if his twin shared the fear, but decided almost immediately she didn't care. "Look, I just want to get some sleep."

"No! Come upstairs, celebrate with us!" Larena said, pushing herself off the bed and grabbing Ariel's arm. "They're celebrating because they have another fragment, one that you brought back. You can't just sit down here and mope!" Ariel sighed deeply. Why'd she have to bond with a high energy, slightly obnoxious traveler. She allowed for Larena to pull her to the edge of the bed before moving herself, getting up and following Larena out of the quarters.

Not without grabbing her dagger first, of course.

"Hey, there she is! The new recruit! Right? Wait…Am I right?" Ariel examined the man in front of her, who stood blocking their ascent to the mead hall.

Torvar was his name, she'd gathered. He was a Nord with blond hair and a short beard. His face was littered with small scars that had made him look old from a distance. However, now that she stood close enough to smell the mead on his breath, she could see he was quite young, and that his face was only shaded with dirt and not age. She found him to be rather unimpressive, with a thin frame and basic leather armor. But his eyes, a shining blue that seemed to almost glow, stood out from him. She could not look away. It was as if his eyes held the essence of the sea itself.  
But, a drunk man can ruin almost everything.

"Hey, baby, you like what you see?" He muttered, smirking and taking a step closer to her. Ariel wished he could see her look of disgust as she moved to the side, pushing him out of her way as she squeezed past him and up the steps. She heard Larena giggling from behind her, causing her to shake her head in disbelief. From what Kodlak, Larena, and Farkas had told her, celebration was a common occurrence in Jorvaskr.

Immediately, Ariel spotted Aela sitting next to Kodlak and Skjor at the middle table. Aela seemed promising. She stood and spoke strong, and seemed to be the only member that favored the bow. So, naturally, Ariel felt a connection with the huntress…whose armor was far too revealing, for her liking. The woman had been kind to Ariel, observing her with fairly neutral eyes, which was welcome over the harsh judgement of Skjor and Vilkas. In her observation, she had stopped walking, and Larena pushed Ariel forward, much to her annoyance, until Kodlak noticed her.

"Ah, so our new blood joins our feast. Congratulations on your successful retrieval of the fragment." He said calmly, but with a joyful tone. He gestured for her to sit, and she was about to; on the chair far away from the table. However, Larena shoved her forward, causing her to nearly crash into the table. An arm shot out, stopping her momentum and saving her face from colliding with the wooden surface.

"Clumsy, aren't you?" Ariel looked at her savior to her left to find the one Dunmer of the group looking at her with curiosity and slight amusement. His voice was very typical of a Dunmer male; a sharp, mid-range accent with staccato consonants. However, it was not an unpleasant sound. In fact, she welcomed the sound as pleasing after the harsh, low tones of the Nords and Imperials.

She preferred to be back home, where everyone had a light, rounded tone and soft accent. Her mother in particular had a voice fit for the loveliest bird on Nirn, particularly when she'd sing…  
Blinking the thought away, Ariel regained her balance, observing the chair that had tripped her. "Not usually." She stated, throwing a glare at Larena, who grinned like a fool from her spot next to Ria. "Maybe in trust. May I sit here?" She asked, though the question itself was flat, and he gestured for her to do so.

"Won't mind a bit of company." He said, grabbing a bottle of mead from in front of him. His long red eyes rested on her for a moment as he placed it down on the table in front of her. "You know, you're gonna have to take off that pathetic excuse of a cowl sometime." Ariel glared at him, but her heart wasn't in it. He was being pleasant, in the Dunmer way. They were a strong race of mer, despite what the Nords thought of them. Sarcastic, careful, hot-tempered, but loyal. She had made many friends in Morrowind, more than she'd made anywhere else.

"Curious like the rest of them, aren't you?" She said simply, wrapping her hand around the cold bottle of mead and examining the label. Black-Briar Reserve. The dark blue bottle was pleasing to her eyes. She had never liked the color orange.

"What you're hiding is your own business. All I'm saying is you can't drink proper with a piece of cloth over your mouth. But if you're trying to hide the fact that you're an elf, you might want to hide your ears better." Ariel let herself smile in amusement. Yes, she was aware that there were two triangle-like shapes peeking up from the top of her cowl. With the thin material, she had been unable to hide it.

"Well, it's a good thing I'm not trying to hide that." She said simply.

"I have never seen an elf with white skin like yours." He stated, though he was no longer looking at her.  
Ariel decided she needed to find a closed-face helmet that wouldn't make her look stupid. Immediately.

"Surprising, that there aren't more like me. Barely ever let the sun touch my skin, though." She said nonchalantly. She had plenty of practice with these conversations, over the past few months.

"You ain't a Dunmer." He said simply, yet quietly. She smiled a little more.

"I thought what I'm hiding was my own business." Silence. Ariel picked up the bottle of mead, arranging her chair so that it turned more toward Athis. She turned her body the rest of the way, crossing her right leg over her left and leaning back and to the side, her shoulder against the back of the chair. She opened the mead and brought it up to her face, pulling down the front section of the cowl more than enough to allow her to drink. Athis glanced over as she did so, observing the normally hidden lower half of her face and her pale lips.  
Athis was not stupid. He kept to himself, for the most part. He observed. If anyone in Skyrim would be able to figure out what she was, it was the Dunmer no more than two feet away from her. She did not search for the recognition in his eyes, the spark of denial or shock that could only be seen if watching him for that split second. No, instead, she fixed her cowl, lightly putting the mead down on the table.

What other story could she tell him? The most likely excuse, that she was simply a pale Dunmer…why would she even try? The elves of Morrowind or Valenwood hadn't questioned her. Of course, this one did. He was old enough, smart enough, and curious enough.

"Why do you hide your face?" He asked suddenly, his voice still low. But he kept his eyes off of her.

"Information such as this is better to keep locked away." She said simply. Another few minutes of silence between the two passed, and Ria and Vilkas left the hall. Then Kodlak went, as well. Aela and Skjor chatted quietly at their table. Larena and Nyada seemed to be having some sort of friendly argument at the table all the way across from hers.

"You're sloppy with a blade." Ariel turned sharply towards him, her brows furrowed. He had no expression, no indication that he had just insulted her swordsmanship. Just sat there, drinking from his mead and looking forward at the fire.

"Excuse me?" Finally he turned.

"I said, you're sloppy with a blade. How you've survived relying on that technique is beyond me."

"Well can you do better?" She replied heatedly, nearly groaning at her own stupid question. Of course he could. She'd seen him train! However, he didn't respond, other than showing her a slowly growing smirk. "Yeah, whatever. You can, I know. Swords aren't my thing. Even shortswords." She said bitterly. Truth was, after her trip through the tomb, she wished now more than ever that she could properly wield a sword. She wasn't hopeless, but precision meant everything. Just like a bow.

"I could show you."

"What?" He kept his eyes on hers, and raised an eyebrow at her quick response.

"You ever listen? I said I could show you." She was stunned. That was something she hadn't expected, at all. "Can't have you off dying someplace. They'd probably send me in after you." Ah, there it was. The sarcasm.  
Ariel sat in thought for a few moments, her eyes searching his for something. What, she was not sure, but she never found it.

"You'd do that for me? Just to help me?" Athis pushed himself up out of the chair, grabbing another bottle of mead off of the table.

"Meet me out on the field at 6am tomorrow. Don't make me wait." Ariel smiled as he left her, and one quick look around the hall told her she was alone. How long had she been there? How long had their silences been? Even the dog, which was normally barking and making an annoyance of itself, slept soundlessly near the front doors. Ariel grabbed her bottle of mead, finishing it off in several rushed gulps. The sound of the fire crackling in front of her was calming, and nearly lulled her to sleep. She stood, sighing at the silence before following in Athis' footsteps.


	3. The Dream

4E 201: 20th of Morning Star - 11:50 am

Pink and orange clouds. They stretched from above her head to the end of the horizon, meeting untouched snow that blanketed the land. In front of her, the colors were reflected in half-frozen water, vibrant and maybe even a little overwhelming. Distant sounds of a waterfall broke the silence of early morning, quieting her thoughts and calming her nerves.

Ariel couldn't remember the last time she felt so relaxed, so…at peace. She wasn't running, or fighting, or hiding…She was simply being. Existing. It felt like hours, sitting with her legs dangling over the side of the snowy cliff. She didn't feel the cold, not even a little. Everything seemed frozen; The sun never moved higher, the clouds stayed still, the water didn't freeze or melt. She would have thought time itself had frozen, were it not for that ever roaring waterfall.

"Kynd Agnue." The voice was low but light, spoken with familiarity and affection. Ariel turned to see a beautiful woman, with skin as white as the snow that surrounded her. Her hair was equally so, and the light blue of her eyes seemed so crystalline, so transparent, that it was like an invitation into her very soul. Her facial features were unique, with a soft, rounded structure that made her beauty different than the others. She was an elf, yes, unique as the girl in front of her. Ariel knew this woman well. This woman who gave birth to her, raised her, protected her, sang to her during cold, stormy nights.

"Mother." The word left her lips with such tender hesitance that Ariel was unsure she'd spoken at all. She tried to get up, to run to her, but found her muscles unresponsive. The woman did not move either. She simply looked forward at the horizon, just like Ariel had been doing seconds ago.

"Latta lattia av lor." The whisper barely reached her ears, and she struggled with their meaning. Following her gaze, Ariel looked back out over the lake, finding there were no beautiful clouds anymore. There was only a black sky, spreading darkness like wildfire. It approached them like ink in water, reaching out with horrifying tendrils that consumed the trees. Looking back in panic, she found the woman gone.

"Mother?" She jumped up, looking around with wide eyes before back to the darkness. Her heart dropped as it was almost upon her.

"Bagaianye." The whisper was ignored. She backed against a cold tree, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around herself, her heart beating against her chest and her breathing ragged with panic.

"Ariel!" She opened her eyes, taking in a gasp of musty air. The darkness surrounded her, and she felt restricted. She began to thrash, trying to push away whatever force claimed her. "Wake up!" What?  
Ariel's eyes snapped open to meet red orbs. Athis held a firm grip on her upper arms, having shaken her lightly right before she shot upright in her panic.

"Athis?" He moved back, straightening, but keeping his eyes on her.

"What were you dreamin' about? You nearly knocked me head off!" He said, his voice full of annoyance, but there was something in his eyes…Something she'd never seen before. That was when she noticed the cold trails on her face. A hand shot up to confirm that she indeed had been crying in her sleep, just moments ago. 

Groaning, she fell back on her bed, shutting her eyes and not bothering to cover her nearly bare torso. She had taken to sleeping in just her undergarments when at an inn, confident in the fact that she was allowed to lock her door. Athis always demanded she leave her key just in reach under the door, so that he may wake her up for training, as he surely was attempting this morning.

The first time she had decided she was comfortable sleeping as such had been very awkward. Athis had come in at the precise moment she woke up, and he had been startled enough to see her face and hair exposed. Then she had sat up, the blanket falling to her waist. He had not been stunned by her body. He had seen a woman's body before, and her more…private bits…were still covered. But seeing her so bare in front of him had shocked him… _and_ her.

But now, after seeing her snow-white skin so many times, after observing her face, everything that was so carefully hidden, he was finally used to her, and she, him.

"Somethin' you want to talk about?" She brought her hands up and threaded them in her hair, something she did whenever the thick white locks were free. The feeling calmed her, and served as a reminder of the knots she'd need to work out. Once she had gone a week without thoroughly combing the knots from her hair…  
Never again.

"No," She said, though her voice was almost a groan itself. The dream was still fresh in her mind, more vivid than any she'd had before. Her mother…It had been so long since she'd seen her, or heard the delicate words of their tongue… _Latta lattia av lor_ … "You don't happen to be versed in Falmeri?" Athis raised an eyebrow at her.

"If it's anything like Dunmeri..."

"I'm fairly certain it's not."

"Then no," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. Ariel looked over at her friend, sighing.

She had been with the Companions for nearly two months. She'd traveled the land with her shield-siblings, explored tombs and raided bandit towers; trained each morning with Athis and spent each night learning of him and opening up to him, or drinking far too much mead with her Bosmer friend. It seemed that Skjor rotated her companionship for each job, and she had been with each companion twice or more, by now. Her favorite jobs were always when she traveled with Larena, Athis, and surprisingly, Vilkas. The man had been so arrogant, so insufferable in the beginning. But slowly, after showing skill and determination, she had earned his respect. She found that Farkas wasn't as dull as she had first thought, and that he probably had the kindest heart of all of them. Skjor was all business most of the time, though he had a soft spot for Aela. The huntress was talented, and understanding when Ariel preferred stealth over head-on combat. Then there was Ria…Ariel had to watch her back the entire time. Njada was often with them, but cared more for quickness then for safety. Ariel had been quick to ask Skjor to never send her with the two females again. She wasn’t built for protecting others so intensely. Torvar was surprisingly competent in battle, but always drunk at home. She wasn't sure yet if his fighting skill made up for his awful pickup lines.  
Yes, for the most part, she'd found a few people to call her friends. She had a bed to sleep in each night, food and drink, the opportunity for coin and travel, and someone to share her past with. She truly had no regret for joining them.

She and Larena had grown closer as well, and Ariel had considered sharing her identity with the Bosmer. She had many friends in distant lands, but none had become quite as close to her as Larena. It was as if Larena didn't care what sat hidden under the mask. Where others would hold Ariel at an arms' length because of it, Larena seemed to be open and, for the most part, uncaring of the secret. Athis didn’t treat her any different. Why would Larena?

Staring up at the ceiling, Ariel pushed her thoughts aside and focus on the feeling of her eyes burning with the ache to sleep. "I have to admit…I don't really want to train today," She said, sighing lightly.

"Well that's good, because it's almost noon."

"What?" She shot up again, observing his amused smirk with confused eyes. Noon? How could that be? Vilkas had wanted to leave the inn early…

"Vilkas left early, somethin' about scoutin' the route home, needing to clear his head," Athis said, shrugging. He didn't seem too concerned, though Ariel raised an eyebrow at his words.

"Is he okay?"

"It happens, from time to time. His brother, too." Ariel pulled the blanket from her lower half and swung her legs over the side of the bed, gingerly allowing her feet to touch the cold floor. The blanket had been so warm.

"Why didn't you wake me up to train?" She moved over towards him, slipping by him to open the dresser. Athis sat on the edge of her bed, watching her as he always did.

"To be honest, I hardly wanted to wake up after only three hours of sleep." Ariel smiled in silent agreement, pulling her clothes from the dresser.

Vilkas, Ariel, and Athis had been sent out on a mission to investigate a troll problem. Originally, they had been told a troll had taken shelter in a cave near Falkreath, coming into the small hold to feast upon farmers, horses and pets. In investigation, the three had found that there were actually four trolls.

Ariel had been able to take a troll out with three well-aimed arrows, the three Companions hiding in the shadows. She had nearly commented on how stealth was keeping them safe and working to their advantage, but thought better. She mortally wounded another before their position was found, thanks to Vilkas' extremely loud armor and the man's lack of grace. Both boys had separated, demanding the attention of the two remaining trolls. Confident in their abilities to distract, Ariel had stepped out of the shadows, finishing the second troll before clipping her bow to her back and pulling her shortsword from its sheathe. Holding the sword firmly in her right hand, it felt so much more natural in that moment than any sword had ever felt to her. Athis had trained her well.

Together, Ariel and Athis were able to take down the troll before joining Vilkas in his own battle. While exhausting, the whole experience was...unexpectedly easy. They had left the cave and returned to Falkreath with pleasant news, receiving the thanks and coin of the Jarls' steward before they began their walk home. The trip to Falkreath had taken a few hours by carriage, but the carriage had left before they returned, leaving them no choice but to travel by foot. They had departed in good spirits at dusk, though exhausted, and had arrived in Riverwood at approximately three in the morning. After battling wolves, bears and even a saber cat, no one had the energy for two more hours of travel. Thankfully, the innkeeper had still been awake at their arrival.

Ariel slipped on her pants and stepped into her boots, leaning down to secure the straps. As she straightened, she turned to retrieve the tie for her hair, but instead froze. There was an intensity she had never seen before, colored in red and locked onto her as if she were prey. There was something different, today. Something had shifted the moment she opened her eyes.

"Athis?" His eyes moved from hers, gliding downward as if it were his first time truly seeing her, but this was different. Then, he had observed the color of her skin, the shape of her figure and structure, as if he expected her to be largely different than any other mortal. Now...She didn't know the look in his eyes. Ariel felt awkward, shifting slightly under his gaze.

Oh yes, something had definitely shifted.

"Is something wrong?" He met her eyes again, and it was as if a certain clarity had returned. He stood suddenly, moving passed her to pause at her door.

"I'll be outside the inn, when you're ready. Don't take too long." And then he was gone, the door shutting silently behind him. Ariel spent minutes staring at that door, her mind working, her heart beating fast.  
What in oblivion was all that about?

Ariel was quick to tie her hair in a sloppy bun, the shoulder-length ribbons of white easily falling into place. She donned her robes and carefully put on her cowl before attaching her belt and weapons, feeling the comfortable weight of her bow on her back and her blades at her waist. The process allowed her ten minutes to think, and…get absolutely nowhere. She wondered if something was bothering him, or if he had never noticed before the scar that ran down the side of her stomach. No, she was certain he'd noticed that before…

Ariel shook her head to clear her thoughts. If he wanted to talk about it, he would. She had no business prying into his thoughts or questioning his actions. They had always spoken freely to one another, when appropriate. Perhaps it would come up in conversation later. Now, though, Ariel just wanted to leave. She gathered her key from the small table between the bed and dresser, opening her door to be greeted by a quiet inn. The barkeep, Orgnar, sent a lazy glance at her as she appeared, nodding to her as she approached and turned in her key.

Ariel had stayed at The Sleeping Giant Inn only three times, but she knew with certainty that she did not like it. The innkeeper was too nosey and too bitter, but even the town itself seemed to radiate a strange atmosphere. Riverwood was too disconnected, to start. She hadn't even liked it when Hadvar had brought her after their escape from Helgen. Hadvar had left almost immediately to a hold he called Solitude, where, he said he would hope to see her as an ally to the Empire. The town had quickly become lonely, save for her occasional conversations with Faendal, a lovesick Bosmer who chased after a young woman, along with a bard at the inn. Faendal had been extremely gracious for her help with the situation, though she had not known him at the time. Sven, the bard, had given her a fake letter to deliver, one that was supposed to convince Camilla that Faendal was...awful.  
Ariel had opted to tell the truth; that the bard was attempting to deceive the woman, and soil another man's name. It was deplorable, really. She avoided the bard's glare. He was only three feet away from her, at present.

Opening the door, Ariel found Athis leaning against the railing of the deck, arms crossed over his chest and his eyes fixed firmly on the ground in thought. While the door to the inn had opened silently enough, it creaked shut behind her as she stepped out fully. His eyes shot up to meet hers, and for a moment, they both simply stared. Then, he pushed himself off of the railing, turning toward the road.

"Come on, let's get back to Jorvaskr." Ariel could feel the sudden tension between them. It was strange, leaving her confused and distracted. She did her best to ignore it.

The trip had been spent mostly in silence, which would have been fine were it comfortable. Ariel spent most of it observing the nature around her with empty eyes, her mind too distracted. Upon observing her shield-brother, she found him to be far too focused on his own thoughts to notice her. The three hour walk had felt like infinity, but finally, the large stone wall of Whiterun was just over the hill. Ariel couldn't help the heavy, relieved sigh, or the muttered 'finally' that left her lips.

"Travellin' with me all that bad?" Ariel smiled at the voice to her right.

"No, only when you're too busy contemplating the universe," she said nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders lightly. Her playful tone elicited a small smirk on the Dunmers' lips.

"I wonder how long it took Vilkas to get back."

"Probably less time than us. He didn't have a Dunmer sulking behind him for his journey." They had reached the stables, and that was when Ariel realized that it was quiet. Very quiet.

Save for the sounds of guards running out of the hold. Ariel cast a glance at Athis, who didn't even bother to look at her before moving toward them. Reaching the entrance, Larena could be spotted running alongside the Jarl's housecarl.

"Larena!" Ariel's call got the Bosmer's attention. Larena stopped in her tracks, though she was anxious in standing still. "What's going on?"

"A dragon was seen around the Western Watchtower. Did you see it?" Ariel felt her jaw drop in slight shock. A dragon. She'd nearly forgotten all about them…

"I…no, we came from Riverwood, we didn't pass the watchtower."

"I have to go!" Larena said, sprinting to catch up. Ariel looked back at Athis, barely noticing the shocked expression he wore.

"Go tell Kodlak, let him decide whether you all get involved."

"Where do you think you're going?" Athis was quick to answer. Ariel could see the turmoil in his eyes. He didn't know which way to run, but Ariel wouldn't let him or any of the Companions get killed by a dragon. No creature on Nirn could prepare them for that sort of battle.

She sure as hell wasn't.

"I was at Helgen for the first dragon attack. I saw what it could do. I have to help-"

"Are you insane? That has to be the dumbest thing I've ever heard! You have no protection! You're gonna get yourself killed!" He grabbed her forearms, an attempt to keep her from running off.

"We don't have time for this." She growled, pushing him away from her before turning and running in the direction of the tower. Her legs carried her quickly, conditioned well for long, fast travel. As she began to catch up with the guards and Larena, a mighty roar was heard from the sky. Ariel slowed for only a moment as she felt her heart skip a beat and fear flood through her, the air rushing out of her in a shaky, forced breath. The dragon swooped down from the sky, opening its gigantic maw.

Fire. It was like Helgen, but now she was in the open, and virtually alone. The giant black dragon landed on the top of the tower, looking down at them all before rearing its head back and again, preparing to rain fire down at them.

"Take cover!" The command was meant for the guards, but it woke Ariel from her frozen state. She dove behind a piece of the destroyed tower, the wall protecting her from the flames. Her body shook with adrenaline, her eyes wide with fear. What was she doing? She couldn't help them kill a _dragon_! The flames moved around her stone cover, and she nearly screamed. Were she just an inch closer to the edge, she'd have been burned to oblivion.

"Move, now!" Ariel rolled to the side, looking up as the dragon took flight. Instinct took over and she ripped her bow from its clip on her back, preparing an arrow with shaking hands. She placed the arrow on the string and steeled herself, taking her usual pre-shot breaths. She fired one arrow into the sky, unsure of whether or not the target was hit. She noticed, as she drew another arrow, that many of the guards were doing the same. Yet the dragon made no indication of feeling pain or weariness.

The dragon circled around, and Ariel felt the ground shake with such force that she almost fell over. Dazed, she looked around to find the guards running around to the other side of the tower. She followed their example, running on unsteady feet to find the most heart stopping sight she'd experienced.

The dragon, on the ground, snapping at her friend.

Larena was swinging her sword frantically at the beast, which snapped at her in retaliation. She moved back, catching her breath as a guard ran up to help her. The dragon growled at the new attacker, opening its mouth and grabbing the upper half of the guard. Ariel watched in horror as the dragon shook the guard back and forth twice before throwing him into the distance, his body limply sailing through the air. As if inspired, Ariel lifted her bow and aimed at the dragon before shooting arrow after arrow, the guards around her following her example. 

Larena and a couple guards renewed their attacks, one more guard losing his head to the dragon's teeth before Larena jumped up, one hand grabbing at the dragon's scales. Ariel stopped her attack, lowering her bow in awe at the move as the dragon attempted to toss her off. She held on tight, turning her sword over in her hand so that she held it at a backward angle, nearly losing it in the process. With a cry, she shoved the sword several times into the dragons' skull, and Ariel had to cover her ears from the dragon's cries. With one last strike, or maybe it was the twenty or so arrows flying into the dragons' side, the beast fell to the ground.

Ariel could have sworn it…spoke, but in the chaos and the sounds of fire burning around her and guards calling out to comrades, she couldn't be sure. She returned her bow to its clip before running forward toward Larena, who seemed to be staring at the dragon in awe. Ariel joined her a moment later, standing a foot or so behind her as the flesh seemed to ignite and burn away quickly. At the same time, some sort of…connection was made between Larena and the dragon, one that Ariel could only describe as…magical, or ethereal. It went by so fast, leaving Larena's entire body glowing for several seconds afterward.

"I can't believe it. You're…Dragonborn!" Ariel and Larena both turned to the guard behind them, who looked upon Larena with awe.

"What?" Larena stepped up to stand beside Ariel, both women exchanging confused glances as guards surrounded them.

"In the very oldest tales, back from when there still were dragons in Skyrim, the Dragonborn would slay dragons and steal their power. That's what you did, isn't it? Absorbed that dragon's power?" Ariel looked over at Larena, looking for any mutual disbelief of this mans' total lack of sanity…but found Larena deep in thought.

"I…I do feel…something…"

"What? You can't be serious?" Ariel whispered, now questioning her friends' sanity.

"I think he may be right," Larena said, looking over at Ariel with serious, confused eyes.

"There's only one way to find out," The guard spoke, "Try to shout." Silence fell throughout the guards. Ariel kept her eyes on Larena as she seemed to be very focused on something. Suddenly, Larena looked up, a strange expression on her face, took a deep breath, and…

Ariel was knocked back, along with several other guards. She hit the ground heavily, the oxygen expelled from her lungs. Her ears rang for a moment, and it was as if the dragon had just roared three inches from her ears.  
But it wasn't the dragon. It was Larena. Ariel opened her eyes to see her friend in front of her, looking at her with worried eyes.

"Are you alright?" The sound was muffled as her ears recovered, but she nodded anyway, accepting the helping hand that pulled her to her feet.

"That was it! You really are Dragonborn!" In seconds, Larena was surrounded by guards, leaving Ariel to slip out of their circle, where they spoke of lore and hope. She had no care for their so-called Nord history and legends. She cared for what was proven, and it was more than true that Larena had gained some sort of power.

Ariel turned and began her walk back to Whiterun, her body aching and head spinning. Dragonborn. She'd never heard of it before. Why was it that Skyrim was proving much more strange than any other land she'd been in?

No, not strange. Interesting. Exciting. Dragons? She wondered if Athis had ever heard of the legends. She would care far more for his input then the guards.

"Hey! Ariel, wait!" Ariel slowed her walk as she looked back to Larena, who had run to catch up with her. "Are you okay? Why didn't you go back to Jorvaskr?" Ariel looked up toward the sky, observing the grey clouds. It would rain soon. As if assuring her, a massive roar of thunder shook the ground, telling tales of a storm to come.

"I'm going there now," She said, her tone dismissive.

"I mean why'd you follow us? You could have been killed!"

"You could have too. Dragonborn, whatever that means, or not. But, we're both still alive, and I'm going home." Larena chose silence as a response. Ariel knew that there was no arguing the point. They could have died, but didn't. What was there left to say?

"I have to go see the Jarl. Maybe he'll know more about this Dragonborn legend." Ariel pushed the gate open, the sight of an empty street greeting the two warriors.

"Stay safe." It was a phrase with more meaning than could be expressed. Larena nodded once before heading left, while Ariel continued straight. Truly, all she wanted now was more sleep.

The thought of sleep brought forth the memory of her dream, still fresh in her mind. She frowned as she entered the market area, shocked with how well she could remember it, after several hours had passed.  
The dream had a meaning. She had to figure out what it meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Copying my note from FFNet:
> 
> I owe you all some translations! Unfortunately for you all, Ariel doesn't know the last two things that were said! But...
> 
> Kynd Agnue means "child mine."
> 
> To be fair, below I will post how to find the sources I used to find this language (Yes, it's actually kind of a thing!) Buuuut if you want to make this journey with our dear little elf, I wouldn't take a look until later :)
> 
>  
> 
> _The first source I found on Elven language was actually a journal someone posted on DeviantArt. It was something they had created from an Unooficial Elder Scrolls wiki page, which is the other source I used. To find the list of phrases this fellow writer created, go on dA and search for the user Johnmin93 and his journal titled "Ayleidoon Phrases (Elder Scrolls Elvish.) The information on the journal was scraped together with the use of the wiki page, found on , labeled Lore:Ayleidoon._


	4. Athis

4E 201: 3rd of Sun's Dawn - 6:42 am

Ariel opened her eyes, observing the empty bed across the room before she moved. First she rolled onto her back, arching her spine and pushing her arms up above her head for a lovely stretch that elicited a soft moan, as was her morning routine. Again, she had woken up late. It had been two weeks since the dragon attacked, and everything had returned to normal. In fact, things had been a little…too quiet. Larena had been named Thane of Whiterun, and so she would be found in Dragonsreach more than in Jorrvaskr at day, and sleeping in her provided home at night. Ariel decided that was the problem. Everyone had taken to her well, and so conversation was always heard. Now, it was mostly silent.

Ariel pushed herself up from her bed, looking around the room. Athis normally slept in the bed across from her, closest to the left side door. His absence meant that she was late, and he hadn't bothered to wake her. Things had been strange, to say the least. There were times when everything was okay, and then there were times when he seemed to avoid her. It was maddening.

After taking note that everyone else was still asleep, Ariel left the room to search for her favorite Companion. She shut the doors quietly behind her, slipping up the steps to the mead hall. The fire crackled as it always did, breaking the silence of the hall. A quick sweep of the room told her he wasn't there. Odd, he normally spent his free mornings in the hall until the others began to wake. Looking more deeply into the shadowed corners of the room, she only found the dog sleeping peacefully under one of the benches.

"Need help, dear?" Ariel jumped in surprise, turning to observe the wrinkly face of the Jorrvaskr keeper. Tilma moved more silently than Ariel could believe, and often chose to sneak up on the elf with her wise old eyes and pleasant, grandmother voice. Ariel was always startled by this harmless old woman.

"Uh, no. I was just looking for Athis…"

"It's nearly seven. Have you checked outside? When he passed me this morning, the boy seemed troubled," Tilma said, a knowing glint in her eye. "Perhaps he is taking advantage of this time to think." The old woman moved around her toward the tables, no doubt preparing breakfast for the warriors soon to wake. Ariel spent only a moment watching the woman before moving to the back doors of the hall. That woman knew everything that happened in Jorrvaskr. Ariel didn't know how or why, but had come to accept it….and, perhaps even fear it, if only a little.

Pushing open the door, she found the Dunmer in question sitting at one of the tables. She moved to join him, taking the seat directly across from him. His eyes met hers in silence before he looked back down at the wooden plate in front of him, turning his attention back to his apple and slice of bread. She raised an eyebrow.

"Are you mad at me, or something?" She asked, keeping her voice down in case anyone decided to join them.  
Athis looked back up at her, pausing as he was about to take a bite of the fruit.

"No, course not. What's got you thinkin' like that?" She let out a puff of air, her brows furrowed.

"Come on, I'm not stupid. You don't talk to me as much, you don't wake me up to train, you avoid my eyes," She added, just as he looked away. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I assure you, I am not mad at you, or anything of the sort." His response was so simple, so dismissive that Ariel felt angry. For once…change was not welcome. "Regardless," He started again, his eyes on the training field, "you've learned quite quickly how to use that sword. I'm not sure there's much else I can teach you." Ariel met his eyes with shock. Could he really be done teaching her? "I see no reason to wake you every morning for review sessions." Standing up, Athis let his hand fall on the hilt of his sheathed blade. "However, if you're looking for some early morning training, I've no reason to refuse." He moved out toward the fields without waiting for her reply, and she smiled under her cowl, pushing herself up from her chair and chasing after him.

She unsheathed her sword as she reached the bottom of the steps, Athis doing the same without turning toward her. Running forward, she used her momentum to prepare a downward slash, which he quickly turned and blocked. "Predictable," He muttered, moving away from her. The two stared each other down for a moment, Ariel contemplating her next move.

This was different than their previous training sessions. He wanted her to show him what she'd learned, to prove that she was efficient with her blade. She certainly planned on making him proud.

Taking a step toward him, she moved for a swing at his left side, using the blade as an extension of her arm, and causing the elf to jump back and dodge. She quickly followed up with an upward diagonal slash, gaining ground as he took steps back to avoid her. As her slash missed him, he pushed his sword toward her stomach, giving her only a split-second to throw her body back and avoid getting stabbed. She lost her footing, and Athis didn't give her any time to recover. He stepped forward, a swing to her left barely blocked by her own blade. In seconds he was slashing at her right, trapping her in a defensive position. He had her so busy defending herself that she didn't think to watch where he pushed her, soon finding herself backed up against the stone wall. He thrust his sword forward, and she just barely was able to duck under it.

With nowhere else to go, Ariel became best friends with the grass covered ground, rolling out of the way of his downward stab and ending up on her back, her sword locked with his after blocking a final slash. He put his weight on his blade, waiting for her to give, but an idea found its way into her head, and despite the effort she was exerting to keep his blade from her, she grinned. Hooking her leg around, she caught the back of his knees and sent him to the ground with a pull, pushing his sword and demanding he fall to her right. She took the moment to jump to her feet, swinging her blade as she turned to keep him on the defensive, but she had over anticipated his movements. He had just stood, unable to protect himself, and both Companions froze as the blade sliced into his side, leaving a nice gash and proving her right in one of their latest debates against his armor.  
Dropping her blade in horror, she immediately moved toward the pained Dunmer, who grunted in pain and staggered back. She placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him steady.

"Oh, divines, I'm sorry!" She muttered quickly, her eyes observing the blood flow.

"S'alright." She could hear the pain in his voice. She knew he'd suffered worse before; he'd told her many stories from before he became a Companion. Still, guilt ran through her veins, and she knew not how deeply she had cut him. She shooed his hand from his side, observing the bloody gash left there. "Quite a move you pulled. I have to admit, I didn't expect it." He had gained control over himself, his voice returning to normal as the initial shock and pain subsided.

"I'll try to heal it," She said, removing her hand from his shoulder. She ripped the glove off of her right hand, exposing the pure white skin before placing it over his wound, eliciting a small hiss of breath from him. The dark blood that ran from his wound covered her hand quickly as she struggled to remember how to properly heal, a lesson her mother had taught her long ago that had come in handy occasionally in her travels. She felt the warmth of restoration in her, as if a pool of magicka resided deep in the pit of her chest. She focused hard on pulling it from the source to her hand, to transfer that magic to him, and felt her hand tingle with the soothing properties of restoration. It did not take long for her magicka to run dry; a skill she didn't often feel the need to use. The spell had done the job, though, for the gash had been healed almost to completion. At the very least, he was no longer bleeding. "There, I think you're okay," She said, looking up at him to lock eyes.  
There it was! That heat in his stare, the one she'd seen when they were at the inn. It was hypnotic, his gaze suddenly deep and demanding of her attention. She felt one of his hands fall to her side, resting on her hip, and her heartbeat suddenly skyrocketed at the contact. So this is what it was…He had become attracted to her…and she could hardly argue her own attraction. She felt his hand slide up slightly, as if unsure of how to proceed. 

Whether it was luck or misfortune, the door to the mead hall suddenly opened, drawing both of their eyes to Kodlak. The old harbinger did not comment on their position, his eyes troubled. Ariel wondered if he even took notice.

"You're both needed in the hall at once." It was a heavy statement, made worse by his abrupt and silent leave. 

Ariel and Athis exchanged a concerned glance. Without a word they stepped back from one another, Athis immediately heading to the nearby water system to clean the blood from his side. Ariel followed in his footsteps after a moment of allowing herself recovery. Together in silence, the two washed the blood from themselves before quickly making way to the mead hall.

Everyone was there, when they arrived. Larena stood at the front doors, her eyes cast to the floor in sadness. Ariel's heart skipped a beat, afraid of what news was to come. Looking around, she noticed that no, not everyone was present…

Aela and Skjor were nowhere to be found.

"Brothers and sisters," Kodlak began, standing in front of the large fire, "I have received sad news. Today is a dark day indeed, for it seems we have lost one of our own." His voice was strong, but filled with sadness for his fallen comrade. The room seemed heavy with everyone's shock. "Skjor has fallen to the Silver Hand. He entered one of their keeps on his own, and for that, he paid the ultimate price. Let this be a heavy reminder to always travel with a shield-sibling. Now, all of you, go, and grieve in whatever way you know." Ariel looked around at her fellow Companions. Vilkas and Farkas both looked devastated. Most of the so called whelps, including herself, seemed to take the news easier, but she noticed as she looked to her side that Athis no longer stood beside her. Instead, she found him halfway to the staircase. Ariel took one final look around the hall, her eyes falling on Larena.

Why did she look so…guilt stricken?

 

* * *

9th of First Seed - 2:14 am

* * *

Weeks passed, filled with small local jobs and training. Ariel was getting comfortable, here. She could feel it in her bones. It was...too domestic, in it’s own way. She bit her lip, focusing her thoughts. Just a while longer.

"Ariel?" Looking up at the soft call of her name, Ariel found Larena peeking around the corner of the hall.

"Larena? What is it?" Looking around as if confirming they were alone, Larena came over to sit next to Ariel on the bench. It took her several moments to speak, her fingers playing with the hem of her night robes. It had to have been about two in the morning, by now. The inhabitants of Jorrvaskr were all asleep. Ariel set the little bound book down, her quill with it. Kodlak had suggested she keep a journal of her dream, and she had just been about to follow his advice.

"I need to talk to someone, but you have to promise not to share this with anyone." The Bosmer looked over at her with pleading red eyes, and Ariel nodded quickly.

"Of course. What is it?"

"I just feel like, maybe, I had something to do with Skjor's death." Ariel lifted an eyebrow, but chose not to speak. It had been almost a month since his death, and she had noticed the woman become less social, but she was always out with Aela. "See, the members of the circle…they're all secretly werewolves. Skjor offered to make me a werewolf, and…well, I accepted." Ariel felt her jaw drop slightly in shock. A werewolf? Skyrim had werewolves?

She hoped they weren't as awful as werebears…

"I transformed and blacked out, but when I woke up, Aela told me that they had planned a welcoming mission. We were going to kill all of the Silver Hand, werewolf hunters, in a nearby keep. Skjor was only supposed to have gone scouting, but…" Larena took a deep breath. "There were so many bodies. He'd killed so many, but someone, somehow, killed him."

"How does that make you responsible?" Ariel asked, trying to figure out where Larena fit into Skjor's poor decision. It didn't sound like her fault at all.

"If I hadn't accepted, he wouldn't have gone in there alone." Ariel sighed, turning to face her friend properly.

"Larena, your emotions get the better of you. There is no way of knowing the outcome of the alternative, so don't try. You must stop being so empathetic, particularly if you are this…Dragonborn."

"Well, now that's something else I need to tell you about," She began, looking up with a different emotion in her eyes. "The Jarl told me I have to go see some men, named the Greybeards." Again Ariel felt her brow arch at the woman's' words. "They will apparently be able to help me understand this new…power, of mine. I plan to go there, when everything with the Silver Hand has been cleared up." She said, her voice more direct than it was several minutes ago. Ariel sat back, her back hitting the railing of the bench uncomfortably.

"I hope you find your answers."

"Me too. I was hoping you'd travel with me." Ariel studied her friend for a moment. "We're both travelers. Soon, we're gonna get bored. Whiterun is nice, but it's so…"

"Dull," Ariel finished her statement. Larena was right, and she couldn't deny it. She was beginning to feel sick of Whiterun. It was beautiful, and for the most part, peaceful. For some, it was all they could ever ask her. But a seasoned traveler sought more. Ariel sought more. She wanted to get to know the people of Skyrim, to hone her own skills. She wanted to explore other holds and maybe find more like Athis and Larena, that she could open up to and call her friend. Maybe, along the way, she could find someone who studied her people, and their language.

Maybe she could even find more of her kin, somewhere in this vast land…

Ariel smiled to herself. Larena had proven to be a fierce companion, and seemed to know Skyrim well enough.  
"I won't sign a contract in blood, but I will say that if the time and circumstances are right, then I will join you in your travels, my friend." She said, observing the grin that broke out on her face. Ariel could only hope that Larena wasn't getting her hopes up.

After all, she had to make sure things with Athis were stable before she could leave. She was not one to run away from her problems.

"Great. Hopefully, this whole Silver Hand thing won't take a year." Larena muttered, and Ariel silently agreed. Picking up her journal once again, Ariel stared at the blank page of the book, gripping the quill harder than she needed to. Now was the perfect time to tell her, but anxiety quieted her voice. She hadn't been ready for one person to know, and now a second would be allowed…

"Larena?" Her voice was small as she closed the book again, staring at the beautiful leather that acted as a cover. Her heart raced and she took a deep breath to control her anxiety. "I was wondering if you'd like to know why I try so hard to keep hidden?" Larena looked over lazily, and Ariel could tell sleep had been on her mind, as her eyes were glazed over with exhaustion.

"Not really." Ariel opened and closed her mouth several times, searching for a response.

"But, you really don't care?" Larena shrugged, standing up and stretching.

"There's a reason you hide. It's none of my business. Everything I do know is everything I need to know." Ariel watched her walk toward the steps with shock. "Besides," She turned her head at the front door, a tiny smile on her lips, "Don't be mad, but Athis already told me."

 

* * *

"Ariel?" Red eyes opened to lock with crystalline blue, but even the dead could see the fire behind them.

And it definitely wasn't a good fire.

"Come with me. Now." Her voice spoke of her anger. She could feel heat and energy moving through her body, fueled by her anger and anxiety. She was sure that if she had a knowledge of destruction magic, her presence alone would have incinerated Jorrvaskr.

Athis pushed himself up and to the edge of the bed, his eyes focused on her with furrowed brows. Without a word, she turned and made way to the staircase, leading him up to the mead hall and out onto the back deck. She turned as he shut the door, glaring.

"You…I…What right do you have-"Ariel felt stupid. She had moved so quickly, had been so distracted by her anger, that she didn't even think of how to approach the situation. Now, as she struggled for a way to appropriately say all the things on her mind, she found only fragments of each possible sentence escaping her lips. Athis raised both eyebows, looking at her expectantly.

"Calm down," He said simply, crossing his arms over his chest. Ariel glared at him in response.

"Calm down? You- _you_ told Larena who I am?" She struggled to keep her voice down, but the intense rushing of blood and adrenaline through her veins nearly had her shouting.

It was only worse when Athis smirked, his eyes shining with amusement.

"She told you that? She asked me a few hours ago." He shrugged with these words, as if it were nothing. Ariel allowed herself to gape at him.

"You see no problem in sharing this?" She had finally calmed herself enough to think, to form proper sentences in her head, but still the heat ran through her. Athis moved toward her, reaching out and grabbing her cowl. He pushed down the front cloth before pushing off the top half, leaving it to hang around her neck, exposing her neatly-tied hair that glowed silver in the moonlight. Her eyes had lost some of their heat, taken over by a curious, questioning look. He observed her face for a moment.

"So, Snow Elves flush too," was his only statement, muttered with a bit of interest in his voice. "I'd bet that Larena didn't tell you what I said, then?" Ariel shook her head twice, keeping her eyes on his. If possible, his smirk grew slightly more, as if this situation were hilarious. He reached a hand up, tilting her chin up as he observed the light dusting of color her anger had provided to her face and neck. "Well, a beautiful, rare Albino Dunmer lass like yourself should never be afraid of who she is."

Ariel stared at Athis in shock. Rare Albino Dunmer? What a ridiculous thing to say…to a Dunmer. Of course, Larena wouldn't know anything about how strange that is. She grew up in Valenwood before beginning her travels in Skyrim. What a brilliant, stupid, ridiculous, clever story. And consistent. Her "pale Dunmer" lie could really take root now. She felt a twinge of guilt that her friend would follow a lie, but in honesty, Ariel was truly not ready for Larena to know.

"So, you lied."

"Yes."

"And…she bought it?"

"Without question." Ariel smiled up at him, the remainder of her anger dissipating. How could she think he would destroy her trust so easily? She reached up, her arms winding around his neck as she closed the space between them and hugged him. He seemed to tense for a moment before she felt his arms wrap around her waist.

"Thank you," She whispered, "It means more than you know." She pulled back, and she felt the hesitation as he let her pull back, though he kept his hands on her hips. Her arms had moved down, leaving her hands to press against his chest as the two Companions stared at one another. His face lacked any sarcasm or amusement, but looked entirely serious, with a touch of something she could not quite place.

"I think," He started, his voice low. "that I do deserve an apology." Ariel stared up into his intense eyes, a small smirk forming on her lips.

"Well, you could have told me.." She gave him a sheepish smile, but his reaction was only to pull her closer, and her smile faded as he dipped his head, his lips meeting hers.

Ariel could barely remember the last time she had kissed anyone. In fact, the last person she had kissed had been one of her own, over a century ago. She always avoided romance, being a traveler. But Athis…He had called her lie immediately, and had accepted her. He knew her better than anyone alive.

His lips were warm and soft, his approach gentle, something she wouldn't expect from him. It was clear he had far more experience than her, as his motions were sure and exact and hers were…timid, and a bit sloppy. He didn't seem to mind, though, as he slid his hands to the small of her back. He pulled her into him, their bodies pressed against one another. She felt heat rush to her face at the intimacy as she was forced to move her hands, one resting just below his neck and the other lightly gripping his shoulder. The kiss lasted what felt like an hour, but was truly only a few minutes, before Ariel pulled away. Her body felt warm under her robes, almost to discomfort, and she moved away from Athis. His body seemed to radiate heat, even his stare, and she couldn't help but to look away. Then, she found, she couldn't look back. Anxiety had wormed its way into her, and she felt shy. Even as he reached a hand out toward her, she moved away, knowing he'd want her to look at him.

"What's going through that head of yours?" He asked, but she could hear the confusion in his voice. Ariel struggled for words that properly expressed how she felt. Inadequate? Inexperienced? Stupid? She could handle trolls, wolves, draugr...but a kiss?

"It's been a long time since I've been so close to anyone," she settled, "I suppose I'm just not used to it, anymore." Athis remained silent, though he did reach out again and pull her back to him and his overwhelming body heat.

"You shouldn't keep hiding yourself." He said, the statement simple but meaningful. It wasn't the first time he'd said it to her, and it likely wouldn't be the last.

"I won't be here forever, Athis." He knew she heard the call of a traveler, just as well as a vampire hears the call of blood, or a werewolf hears the call of the moon. Whether or not to answer was as much her choice as it was theirs. On the other hand, Ariel wouldn't expect Athis to travel with her. This place was his home. He felt relief upon returning to Whiterun after long trips; a satisfaction upon laying in his own bed. And, whether or not he would admit it, the warriors of Jorrvaskr had become his family.

"Then we'll make it count." Ariel smiled. Such a simple solution. To feel the comfort of another, if only for a little while. To know someone cares, has the ability to share love. Ariel drew back from his light embrace and kissed him lightly on his lips.

"Of course."


	5. Haunted

4E 201: 12th of Second Seed - 10:00 pm

"How have you gone so long without killing anyone?"

"I told you; I would injure them until I could get away."

"You don't just come across your normal run-of-the-mill bandits, here. There are more advanced enemies you'll have to face. You'll have to kill." Ariel looked over from her dinner plate to Vilkas, who sat diagonally to her right in the hall of Jorrvaskr. To her immediate left sat Athis, who had been quietly listening to the conversation. Kodlak, Farkas and Aela were in their own conversation, but Kodlak occasionally would glance over toward Ariel and Vilkas, as if watching for something, or perhaps catching bits of their conversation.

"I don't like killing. It's not my job to remove someone from existence."

"What if they deserve it?" Athis had spoken, and Ariel turned to meet his curious eyes.

"What do you mean, 'deserve it'?"

"I mean the bandits that go around raping women and killing children." He had made the statement with such ease that Ariel feared it was a common occurrence in Skyrim.

"Or the blood-suckers that attack our cities?"

"Vampires are different all together," she said, choosing to look back down at her plate and tear off a corner of her bread. "I've never met a single vampire who didn't intend to attack me. They’re already dead."

"So what makes them any different from that bandit trying to slit your throat?" Vilkas could be blunt, and tended to be often, but his accent made anything sound graceful. Perhaps that's why she didn't feel any sort of threat or offense from his statements. His question made her think, though. It was a question she'd asked herself several times in her life.

"I suppose I can't handle the idea of taking someone's life when they may be leaving behind a family." While her statement meant little to Vilkas, she could feel Athis' stare on her for several moments after the comment was made.

"One day, you'll be forced to kill someone," Vilkas said lightly, as if it were the most natural action in the world. 

"But I can respect your decision." Ariel looked back over at him, nodding to show her appreciation.

"Thank you." She brought the torn piece of bread up to her lips, savoring the smell and taste of the fresh baked slice with each bite. She was able to enjoy meals with her shield-siblings in confidence, ever since Athis had told his ridiculous lie. She kept her hair hidden, of course. She knew not a single mer or human alive who shared her particular shade of white. However, she was able to walk around Jorrvaskr without the cloth that hid most of her face. She gazed over toward the front door as Vignar Grey-Mane entered, Jon Battle-Born behind him. Jon commonly joined them for their celebrations, practicing his passion as a bard for the warriors of Jorrvaskr. He hardly ever said a word to anyone other than Ariel, Kodlak, Tilma and Vignar, but he was always cheerful and added life to the hall for these small celebrations. Catching her eyes, he gave her a nod and a smile before setting down his drum and taking his lute off of his back.

Ariel grabbed the amber bottle in front of her, bringing it to her lips and taking a large gulp of Honningbrew Mead. It was not the best she'd ever had, but it certainly did the job; warming her blood and relaxing her muscles. She'd become comfortable with drinking large amounts at such celebrations, only stopping when her vision swam and she could no longer form coherent sentences. Tonight, she suspected, would be no different, as the Companions were celebrating the return of yet another fragment of Wuuthrad…a rather large fragment, brought back by Farkas, Ria and Torvar. Admittedly, it did not take her nearly as many bottles to get drunk as it did the others. She had not built up a tolerance to alcohol in her previous years, and her light diet left her vulnerable to quicker effects. As was expected, Torvar was already fairly drunk, and very loud. Njada was not far behind, her rude comments echoing through the hall as she insulted the drunk man.

Ariel could already feel the heaviness of her muscles, a fine haze entering her mind as she finished off the bottle of mead in front of her. She made short work of her bread, leaving her goat cheese and half of the horker meat. She never ate much, but Tilma insisted on giving her as much food as the other warriors anyway, claiming she could not possibly prevail in battle on such a small amount of nourishment. Looking to her left, Ariel was about to ask Athis for another bottle of blood-warming poison, but found the seat empty. Scanning the room with confusion, she found no hint of him around the hall.

"Awh." She whined quietly, slumping a bit in her chair, but hands fell onto her shoulders before she could pout for too long.

'What's all that about?" A smile worked its way onto her face as she sat back up, turning around to face Athis.

"I thought you left." Through her blurry, unfocused vision, she could see the smirk that was slowly growing on his lips.

"We've run out of mead. I'm going to get more." He went to head toward the staircase, but Ariel was quick to stand. Too quick. A wave of vertigo washed over her and she wavered, a hand reaching out for support. He grabbed her lower arm, and as she recovered, she could hear the low chuckle that was nearly lost in the chaotic laughter and shouting around the room. "Thin blood." He murmured, just barely loud enough for her to hear him, before pulling her gently with him toward the stairs. She let a small bubble of laughter leave her before she walked beside him, pulling her arm from his grasp.

"I'm fine," She said, noting how much focus it took to speak clearly. "I'm not drunk yet." Ariel led the way down the steps, and she knew Athis was laughing at her as she clutched the railing for support. He always found it utterly hilarious that she could not handle a few small drinks. As Athis shut the door behind them, they were brought some peace, the sounds of celebration upstairs reduced to mere echoes in the hall.

Athis took her hand and led her to the storage closet that she had come to know very well in the past two months, set just after the end of their living quarters and acting as their haven for short moments of affection. The closet was quite large, holding old weapons and armor, dry food supplies, and a sliding door that held snow from the Throat of the World, legendary snow that never melted and had apparently been there since Ysgramor. Ariel couldn't complain; it kept the mead cold. Because of this, though, the closet itself was colder than the rest of Jorrvaskr, causing a small chill to run up her spine at the sudden drop of temperature. As the small thud of the door closing reached her ears, she felt Athis' warm body press against her back, driving away the cold. She shuddered as his light stubble scratched against her skin and his lips brushed over her neck. His hands fell to her hips, gripping them gently as he pulled her back into him, eliciting a small sigh of content from her.

His lips on her neck was a unique feeling that she had never experienced before, sending small bolts of pleasure down her spine like electricity and causing her skin to tingle strangely in his wake. Pulling away, he turned her around to face him and pulled her roughly to him, the sensation of crashing into him and his body heat washing over her causing her to gasp. He took advantage of her dazed state by moving in for a heated kiss, turning them and pressing her against the wall. She inhaled sharply as she felt the cold of the wall through the fabric of her robes, contrasting sharply with the overwhelming heat that radiated from the Dunmer. Her hands, which had taken to gripping his upper arms as she connected with the wall, now loosened and slid onto his chest, moving from flesh to leather strips, tracing down the cross of material that led to his exposed sides. Her right hand skimmed the location of the small scar she had given him, and he pulled her closer with a large exhale, as if fond of his newest mark.

His own hands had worked their way over her, as well. One was splayed on her lower back, keeping her arched toward him, while the other had swiftly pulled down her hood and removed the bindings from her hair. She felt the light tug on her hair as his fingers entangled themselves in the soft, untangled locks, a feat she had struggled to achieve just hours ago. She moved one hand inward to rest on his hardened stomach, the muscles jumping slightly under her touch. Ariel smiled into their kiss as his body reacted to her, something she loved to observe whenever possible. Her body buzzed with a familiar feeling, one that drove her to leave behind thought and follow instinct. It was something she'd fought back with before, but the haze of the mead had her welcoming the sensation with open arms, causing her to push back against Athis for control.

A low growl formed in his throat, barely audible, but Ariel could feel the vibration through his chest. Still she pushed, both hands spread firmly against his stomach, until he pulled away from her with questioning eyes. Despite the look of confusion and concern, the lust in his gaze was hardly hidden, made more obvious by the way his gaze swept over her as he waited for an explanation. He was prepared to be shut down, but Ariel wasn't sure she had the strength to tell him no again. Instead, she flashed him a mischievous smile.

Pushing him once more, he ended up against the wall this time, his eyes locked on her, curiosity the only thing keeping him from moving. Ariel leaned softly against him, capturing his lips in a short kiss before moving her lips to his neck, kissing him as he had done to her minutes ago, her hands returning to their previous positions on his stomach. She moved them slowly down over his muscles until she hit his armor and heard his breath hitch with anticipation. She nipped his flesh where his shoulder and neck met, drawing a pleased hum from him. Ariel let her hand continue its exploration downward, over his armor, until she could feel his hardness through the fabric, feeling his hips push forward in response as she pressed her hand against him. He groaned then, a tortured sound, before reaching up to take her chin in his hand. He turned her face up away from his neck before pushing his lips against hers with a new vigor. She responded energetically, her hand moving against him to give him the wonderful pressure he craved. He pushed her away for only a moment, pulling her to the floor with him until he leaned back against the wall with her straddling his hips, her smile wide as she fought the dizziness from the change in elevation. Her hand moved to the leather and fur belt around his waist as his hands moved under her robes, meeting the bare skin of her taught stomach. His skin was hot, sending another shiver through her as she removed the belt, now able to see the bulge in the leather pants where his arousal pushed against the material.

She was nervous. Her muscles were tense. She was not used to these sensations. Pleasant as they were, they were intimidating, the way they took over her body. Despite the alcohol leaving her mind in a haze, she felt the anxiety clear as day, but something drove her forward. A thought crossed her mind, one she'd had several times before; perhaps she could be happy here in Whiterun, with Athis. Perhaps she could have a home.  
Maybe it was time to have a quiet life again, to claim back what had been ripped away from her. Wasn't that what she wanted?

Athis looked at her with heavily lidded eyes, bringing her back to the moment. He was distracted by the sensation of her hips moving against his as he pushed the robe over her head, leaving her in just the tan leather bra and cloth pants. She could feel him so well through his leather and her thin cloth. It felt strange, at first, but she liked it.

Oh, did she like it.

Athis let his eyes explore her, as if she were forbidden territory, his hands resting on her hips and pushing down as he thrust upward. The sensations that ran through her caused her to arch her spine and let out a soft moan that she couldn't hold back. Her mind screamed for control, but her body called for more of the pleasure, more of the distraction.

His hands had found the tie of her bra just as hers found the tie of his pants, both Companions focused on freeing the other from their binds. Ariel felt herself shaking, and was surprised to find Athis reacting similarly, his hands unable to untie the bind around her chest without struggle.

A sharp thud from the stairs made both flushed elves freeze in their frantic movements. Ariel looked down at Athis, who met her gaze with confusion. Another thud, a couple shouts. Ariel pushed herself off of Athis at the sound of metal connecting with metal. She grabbed her robes, hearing Athis hiss a curse as he righted his armor. The noises upstairs had intensified in just a few short seconds, and Ariel ripped her hood back over her head, pulling the mask into place. Athis opened the door slowly, looking through the crack in the door he created before shutting it again.

"What is it?" Ariel whispered, coming up behind him.

"Bandits, it seems. There are two in the hall, and my sword is on my bed!" He whispered back in an aggravated tone. Ariel whirled around at the dimly lit storage closet, her eyes skimming over the weapons available. She smirked as she found the perfect one.

A bow! One poorly kept bow, with arrows. Ariel ran over and grabbed the weapon, testing the tension of the string before she came back to the door, grabbing a rusted dagger as she approached and handing it to Athis.

"Open the door, and I'll distract them," she said confidently, readying an arrow. Athis opened it slowly, and Ariel peeked around the corner, able to only see one bandit. He was looking down the hall at the weapon displays, as if deciding which to steal. Still feeling the effects of the alcohol, Ariel squinted and inhaled sharply, commanding her muscles to cooperate. Taking nearly double the time it usually did, she found her center and let the arrow fly, embedding itself in the bandits' side. He fell with a cry, one hand grasping at the deeply embedded arrow.

"Who's there?" Ariel readied another arrow, moving out into the hallway slowly to reveal herself. The second bandit rounded the corner of the living quarters and Ariel let her arrow loose, hearing Athis move behind her. 

The arrow hit, though only his arm, and he shouted out a curse before drawing his sword. Concentration kept her face blank as she drew another arrow, letting it fly and embed in the man's chest before she turned, moving out of the way of his swing-cut-short before he kneeled on the ground, ripping the arrow out of the chest of his leather armor. Ariel moved back into the storage room, another arrow ready, but Athis struck before she had the chance. Dagger drawn, Athis moved with great speed to slit his throat, which Ariel closed her eyes to avoid watching. The sound was awful enough, as the bandit choked on his own blood.

"Ariel! Let's go!" Ariel opened her eyes as Athis ran forward toward their living quarters, and Ariel found upon following that he had slit the other bandits' throat as well. Unease settled deep in her stomach before she followed Athis, grabbing her own sword and dagger before following Athis to the steps, aware that her bow would be useless, if the noise from above told her anything.

Entering the mead hall had been catastrophic enough. The body of a bandit nearly blocked them from getting through, but Athis shoved his shoulder against the door, forcing it open. Blood covered the stairs, but more alarming were the sounds of battle feet away from them. Ariel followed Athis up the stairs, who didn't hesitate in joining battle. She, however, scanned the room quickly, running to Ria and unsheathing her sword, as she seemed the most in danger. She slashed at the back of one of the two bandits attacking her shield-sister, eliciting a cry of pain and a glare before he focused on her. His turn brought the arc of a large war axe toward her stomach, which she jumped back to avoid. The momentum took him all the way around until his axe connected with the table edge. Taking advantage of his misfortune, Ariel twirled with her sword, gaining enough power to damage his armor and send him staggering, the axe slipping from his grasp and to the ground. Ariel stabbed forward at him, her blade connecting with the armor and veering off to the side, slicing his arm instead. Her eyes searched frantically for a weakness in his armor, finding leather covering his legs. Quickly she slashed downward, the sharp blade slicing through his armor and into his leg.

With a loud cry of pain he fell to the ground, blood spurting from his wound onto the floor of Jorrvaskr. She brought the blade to his throat and froze, looking into his glare as he panted with pain from the ground. Her heart beat quickened as she felt panic flood through her. Minutes passed in the form of seconds before a shove sent Ariel falling away from the bandit and towards the fire, sword leaving her hand and clanking against the ground. She gasped as heat filled her senses and she stopped, barely inches away from the licking flames as a hand grasped her wrist and pulled her away from a painful death. Her savior unhanded her immediately, leaving her to turn and search. Kodlak stood several inches away from her, initiating battle with a large looking bandit in full armor. Turning, Ariel found the bandit she had injured hobbling toward the door as quickly as he could. 

She searched frantically for her sword, finding it only inches away from the fire. At the feet of a new bandit. Ariel turned back for a moment at the sound of a chuckle to find another bandit, grinning at her menacingly. Her heart thudded against her chest as she looked between the two, waiting for one to make a move.  
These bandits, she realized, were truly out for their deaths. Ariel listened for a moment to the sounds of struggle around her. They were outnumbered by a lot. Ariel saw movement to her left, her hand grasping at the hilt of her dagger. She whirled around toward the second bandit, dropping to kneel in order to avoid his warhammer and lashing out with her dagger at his knee. He jumped back, narrowly missing her slice. A cry behind her brought her attention to the first bandit, who approached with a raised greatsword that went crashing into the floor beside her as she pushed away.

Ariel breathed heavily, looking at both of her attackers. They both had large, heavy weapons that made them slow, and Ariel had a tiny little blade, speed on her side. She kept her eyes on the bandits, again waiting for them to make their move. With just her dagger, she knew the only way she would win was by waiting for an opening.

The bandit with the warhammer raised it above his head, preparing to charge, and she found the weakness in his armor. Both bandits charged toward her and she was left on the defensive, pushed back away from the fire and her sword until she felt her back connect with the wooden support, taking her by surprise. Her heart nearly stopped for a moment before she regained her senses and dropped to the ground just in time to avoid decapitation. She looked up as the massive bandit brought the warhammer over his head, his eyes murderous, before she pushed herself up and prayed she wouldn't miss.

The dagger wedged itself in between two plates of armor, slicing through leather and embedding into his chest. The bandit dropped the warhammer with a cry and stumbled backwards, giving her the opening she needed to run past him and back to the fire, where her sword still lay. She wrapped her hand around the hilt, crying out as the heat from the metal burned her skin. She was left little time to focus on the pain, however, because the bandit with the greatsword had dislodged his blade from the support, his eyes angry. Ariel moved first.

She ran forward, hand gripping the sword tighter than it needed to. Coming in range, she swung at his side, her sword glancing off of his armor before he countered with a wide swing of his blade. She brought her own sword back to block, her heart thundering against her chest. She never thought she would be in a situation like this, where armor would be more than necessary to her survival. She had procrastinated in enchanting her robes and weapons because she felt safe…but reality had finally appeared, and as she blocked a downward swing from the mighty greatsword toward her face, she stared at the gleaming blade, made of what looked like silver, with regret.

The bandit pushed down on her, causing her arms to shake and muscles to scream with the effort it took to hold his sword back. He was far larger than her, using his bodyweight to his advantage. For a moment, she thought that was it. Her muscles would get tired, his blade would split her head open, and years, no, over a century of surviving would be in vain.

As if the divines blessed her, an arrow embedded itself in the bandit’s throat, his body becoming lax and the sword falling from his hands. She moved backward, sword still up in her shock, as he fell forward and to the ground. Ariel spared little time to thank Aela, looking over at the huntress with a nod before Aela was on to another enemy, leaving Ariel to turn and search for the bandit with her dagger. To her surprise, he was nowhere to be seen.

Until a scream came from her right.

Ariel turned to the sound, her heart dropping. The bandit in question stood beside Athis, who seemed to have been protecting Njada, currently helpless on the ground, from a large bandit with an axe. Her dagger, which had been previously embedded in his chest, was now stuck in Athis' stomach.

Ariel ran forward as Athis fell to his knees, his original enemy raising his axe high above his head. It felt as if she were walking rather than running, causing her to push herself forward with as much energy as she could. Ariel did not stop charging until her sword pierced the bandit's armor, running through until the hilt. He staggered sideways, his axe crashing into the floor seconds before his body. A cry from her left brought her attention back to the bandit, who had painfully removed her dagger from Athis' side. The Dunmer fell to the floor, his right hand pressing against the wound in a useless attempt to stop the bleeding. Ariel looked up at the bandit, who stood breathing heavily, exhausted from his own wound.

Angrily he ran forward, brandishing her dagger as he staggered in her direction, barely able to hold himself up. Ariel slipped out of his path, running to where Athis' light shortsword lay. She brought it up as the bandit turned, his right arm swinging toward her. She jumped back, the tip of the blade dragging across the front of her robes and slicing the cloth, drawing a thin red line across her skin as she barely dodged it. With her dagger, the bandit moved furiously, slashing this way and that and managing another slice across her arm before she pushed the shortsword forward, anger and panic pushing her before she could stop herself. The sword effortlessly slid through the bandit's exposed neck, and almost instantly Ariel was able to observe the life drain from his black eyes. The cowl hid her shocked look as she let go of the sword, which fell with his body to the ground.

She stared in shock, as if what she was seeing wasn't really there. Cries of anger and pain rang throughout the room, but they were all too quiet. She scanned the room slowly, her eyes observing but not really seeing. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she registered that the remaining bandits had left; that Aela and Torvar were missing, and Farkas, Njada and Vilkas were running toward Kodlak's body. She saw Vilkas yell, but could only hear the sound of her heart beat, thunderous and slow. She looked down, her eyes locking on the body of the bandit, head barely attached to his body. She stumbled back as nausea swept through her like a strong wind, wrapping a hand around her stomach as she felt the lurch of her stomach. She ripped off her hood just in time to bend over and empty the content of her stomach, the acidic smell lost in the smell of blood around her. Her body shook as she retched, her throat burning and lungs screaming.

Looking up with exhausted eyes, she searched for anything to focus on, anything other than the death that surrounded her. She found her distraction in the form of a trembling Dunmer, curled on the floor in pain. Ariel moved too quickly for her body, stumbling ungracefully over with a sudden push of purpose, unaware of her own blood seeping from several cuts and slices on her torso and arms. She was met with a worried gaze from Ria, who stood from her kneeled position next to Athis to grab onto Ariel. Paying no mind to her, she fell to her knees softly, with the help of her Imperial friend.

Ariel reached forward with both of her hands, ignoring the fact that Ria was shaking her slightly, trying to gain her attention. She let one hand fall on Athis' shoulder, the other grabbing his free hand. She could feel his entire body shaking under her touch.

 _"Ariel!"_ Ariel stared down at his pained expression with wide eyes, her breath quickening. It wasn't he who had called to her, or anyone else in Jorrvaskr. That voice didn't belong to anyone she knew. Not alive. _"Ariel, run!"_ Ariel squeezed her eyes shut, as if blocking out the sound of the memory, but the smell of death around her brought back the images of dead bodies, white and red, expressions that would forever be twisted in pain and fear. Ariel could hear the voice louder now, and she was suddenly trapped in the darkness she had fled to for comfort as more joined, screaming in pain. Her throat burned, and she suddenly realized she was screaming with them, her body shaking until she felt cold, freezing, as if she had no blood left in her body, and the sounds faded, and the scent was overwhelming.

There was nothing; nothing but the scent of death and the ominous darkness. She welcomed it, the cold silence dragging her further down until she felt nothing, heard nothing, knew…nothing.


	6. Hunting

4E 201: 5th of Midyear - 6:36 pm

"I could get used to this." Ariel could feel the smile grow on his lips, which were currently pressing against the back of her neck. She felt goose bumps rise over her skin as his left hand skimmed across her shoulder, pulling the hair out of his way. Every kiss was soft, sending a flutter of pleasure down her spine that wasn't necessarily arousing. No, it was more like a fine massage, forcing relaxation through her normally tense and tired muscles. He held her up on his lap as she melted back against him, shivering as his lips found that spot which elicited a soft moan of content and pleasure from her and prompted her to turn slightly toward him to capture his lips with her own.

"Don't lie," he said pointedly, just after she had pulled away. Ariel searched his red eyes for any sign of discontent. She was relieved to see nothing but simple acceptance in his eyes. Three weeks after Kodlak's funeral, two days ago now, she had mentioned to him her not-so-far future. She was met with expected but minimal opposition, until she reminded him that she had already warned him. He had known she would leave one day.

That day quickly approached. Ariel had already visited the Skyforge and had her blades upgraded, in addition to running around to three shops and Dragonsreach to obtain a new set of robes. Farengar had been surprised and suspicious, but had provided her a nice blue set of robes that he had from his college days for an unfortunately high price. However, Ariel found them to be far more efficient than her last set, already charged with fairly powerful enchantments. She could feel the constant buzz of energy, just barely noticeable unless she wanted to notice it. She could feel the change in her magicka, ever so slightly increasing the flow of power.

Unfortunate, that she wasn't much of a mage to begin with.

In truth, Ariel struggled with each day she spent in Jorrvaskr. Jon and Torvar had worked tirelessly to fix the damage in the mead hall from the attack, but Ariel could still see it all fresh in her mind. The battle could have happened yesterday, as far as she was concerned. While most of the bloodstains were gone, thanks to Tilma, specks of red could still be seen on the old wooden floors. Luckily, the gold and red carpets hid the stains well enough.

"It's a nice thought, isn't it?" She asked, shrugging. She turned so that she was seated sideways on his lap. His hand still lingered at her neck, but sat as still as the rest of him. Ariel brought a hand up to his face, her fingers softly running over the very prominent features. She traced his strong jawline that eventually lead her to his long, pointed ears before she moved up the slightly sunken flesh of his cheek. His head tilted slightly as she traced the high painted cheekbones and moved her hand up to his forehead, following the deep ridges of his brow before resting back on his cheek. The features of a Dunmer were so distinct, compared to other mer. Altmer, Bosmer and her kin all shared the same sharp facial features, but Dunmer tended to have rougher qualities, the bone structure more prominent. Shadows were natural over their faces, causing the illusion of a constant scowl.

To think, she'd almost lost him.

Ariel had little memory of what happened that night, but she had been plagued by nightmares. Visions of Athis dying, of her sword running through a bandit….Then there were the nightmares of her kin, screaming and calling out for help…She'd been woken by Athis, Ria, and Torvar on multiple nights for her whining.

"Satisfied?" Athis' growl brought her back to reality, finding that her hand had sat still on his cheek for the duration of her thoughts. There was no annoyance in his voice, and she couldn't help but smile. This wasn't the first time she'd done this.

"I find them fascinating, Dunmer features." She shrugged, brushing her thoughts away as she removed her hand and placed a kiss where it once was.

"I'm sure you do…" Ariel felt a blush creep up at his words, spoken in a low and rough tone. She stood from his lap and slapped his arm playfully, drawing a deep chuckle from him. Rolling her eyes, she moved to grab her forgotten cowl and gloves off of the table.

"Shouldn't you be outside training, anyway?" She asked. His smile fell to a more serious expression as he stood. Without her consent, her eyes traveled to the new scar along his side.

"Heading out?" She slipped the cowl over her head and stuffed the gloves in her pocket, grabbing the weapons she had abandoned in favor of her warm, affectionate seat. With both sword and dagger sheathed, she examined her bow, turning it in her hands. It was in rough shape, reaching the end of its use. Eorland had simply scoffed when she had brought it to him. _"Bows are for the weak,"_ he had said. She'd nearly punched him then and there. Strapping the bow and quiver of iron arrows to her back, she turned back toward Athis.

"I need to gather more supplies, maybe a new bow. Shouldn't be too long." She said dismissively, grabbing an apple as she moved toward the doors.

Things had become tense. The circle had not yet returned from…whatever it was they were doing. The 'whelps' had taken to keeping their training schedules or roaming Whiterun. No one but the circle had authority of jobs, so the request letters sat idle just inside the doors of the mead hall. The death of the Harbinger had hit hard, creating a constant cloud that loomed over Whiterun. Ariel couldn't help but roll her eyes as she opened the front door to see dark clouds rolling in.

Overall, Whiterun had seemed a little less bright these days. Perhaps it was Kodlak's death, or the dragons….  
Or maybe she just really needed to leave.

"Better make this quick," She mumbled, casting a glance at the raving priest down to the right before she made her way down the steps. She stopped at the bottom for only a moment to observe the dead tree before moving on, turning left around the center toward the shops. She was pushing her timing, sure that she only had about half an hour before the main shops closed. Her hand moved to her belt, brushing over the pouch of coin she had at her hip. She could only hope she would leave with some septims left.

There was light chatter in the market place. Sunset was her favorite time to shop. Most of the stall merchants had spent all morning and afternoon calling out to customers, leaving them tired and subtle. The crowd, for the most part, fought over everything in the morning. Ariel held little concern; she usually had no need for their supplies. Crossing the market quickly, she ignored the people standing around the well. She had no time to entertain Nazeem or Ysolda about wealth or Khajiit merchants.

Ariel had only visited Arcadia's Cauldron once. It was a small shop that seemed to serve as Arcadia's home, as well. Despite the small space, the older woman had a large amount of alchemy supplies and potions. As Ariel entered, she was faced with the disorienting lighting, the source being the small fire in the center. Arcadia sat in a chair in the far corner, looking up at the sound of a customer.

"Ah, is that Ariel? Come to get some more training?"

"No, I'm afraid not." The Imperial picked herself up from her chair, moving over to the main desk.

"Well, feel free to browse around. I've got tonics, salves, poultices and potions on my shelves." Ariel let her eyes scan the wall of bottles behind Arcadia. They were mostly organized by color and size, but Ariel really only had interest in three particular brews. Biting her bottom lip, she tried to decide what was best to buy; until she had a bigger pack for travelling, she'd have to keep it light.

"I would like two potions; one of healing and one of invisibility. Any poison, as well, and a healing salve." Arcadia hadn't waited for her to finish her order before she turned around to grab the various bottles. While the potions would take up valuable space, the salve gratefully came in a small round container.

"Will that be all?" Her voice was bored, obviously tired from her long day of…sitting. Ariel pushed back the annoyance. She almost considered not following through with Farengar's request. If anything, she hoped to get a discount.

"Actually," She said, a small hint of attitude in her voice. Arcadia didn't seem to notice. "I have a delivery from Farengar." She reached into the pack that hung at her right side, just under her dagger. Arcadia's eyes seemed to light up for a moment.

"Ah, splendid, splendid. It's for a special brew I'm working on," Ariel rolled her eyes discreetly. People often shared far too much. She just wanted her potions. "It's a love elixir, like no other! Maybe I'll test it on Farengar first…" Scowling, Ariel was glad she wore her cowl. "Oh, but I suppose you expect some compensation? Hmm…"

"How about the poison free?" Ariel suggested, knowing that it was among the higher priced items. Arcadia seemed to consider it for a moment, slightly displeased by the offer, before she sighed.

"Fine, fine. The rest, though, will be fifty-seven septims." Ariel was quick to reach into the pouch on her belt and produce the gold. Reaching out, Ariel suddenly realized that she had forgotten to don her gloves in Jorrvaskr. Arcadia eyed her white skin suspiciously, eyebrow raised.  
"You look rather…pale." Ariel almost snorted in amusement. She knew 'Snow Elf' wasn't usually on the list of possible pale races, but she had met a fair many pale Nord and Breton women. Couldn't that suffice? "Could be Ataxia. It's quite a problem in Cyrodiil."

"Thanks, but no. I'm simply pale." She tried to keep her tone calm and controlled, the way she had entered Whiterun months ago. But the tense atmosphere of Jorrvaskr coupled with the anxiety to travel was making her irritable. Quickly storing the supplies, she turned on her heel and sent a half-hearted 'good bye' over her shoulder.

Belethor wasn't good for much supply, this day. He had greeted her heartily, joking that one of his finest customers should visit more often. Despite his 'grand' title for her, she had only bought a few lockpicks, some apples, a map and a curious little ring that buzzed with an unknown enchantment. Walking out of the store, she packed everything away neatly in the pouch, already beginning to fill. Shrugging, she went to turn left down the path, but a familiar voice caught her.

"Ariel!" Resisting the urge to groan, Ariel turned around to find Anoriath walking quickly toward her. Truly, the Bosmer never gave up, calling for her whenever it seemed proper. She couldn't blame him, though. He knew she was a mer, and not all the Nord's in Whiterun were accepting of their presence. Athis hardly came to visit the elven brothers, and she was sure that Anoriath just wanted to speak to another elf who wasn't his older brother.

"Good evening, Anoriath. Are you well?" She asked, waiting for him to reach her before turning back toward the path.

"Quite. On your way to speak with Elrindir?" Ariel smiled. Despite the fact that Anoriath would not leave her alone, his energetic disposition was welcome. Things had become too somber, as of late.

"Yes, in fact. I will be travelling soon. I hope to be well prepared."

"To where?" Ariel faltered in her step. She had not thought of where. She'd only been to Falkreath, Helgen, Riverwood, and Markarth.

And she was not going back to Markarth.

"I'm not sure yet. Any suggestions?" The two stopped just outside of The Drunken Huntsman, Anoriath wearing an expression of deep thought.

"Well, I haven't traveled all of Skyrim. I do prefer the Rift, as it is warmer there. Ivarstead is a nice little town that's not too far from Riverwood. Riften is…trouble. But if you're just looking to pass through, it may be worth your time. I know the Temple of Mara stands there." Ariel nodded, drinking in every word.

"Perhaps I will go there first, then." She moved to enter the shop when Anoriath stopped her with a light touch on her arm.

"You know, you never joined me to hunt." Ariel felt her eyes widen in shock before she sighed. She hadn't forgotten. She'd just hoped he would forget.

Apparently not.

"I'm…going to hunt now. If you're not terribly busy, I could wait for you?" Ariel met his pleading gaze, feeling slightly trapped. One hunting trip wouldn't hurt, right? She nodded slowly, watching the slow smile spread on his lips.

"Sure. I'll try not to take too long." She said, waiting for his touch to leave her before she entered the shop.

* * *

"Where'd you learn how to shoot so well?" Ariel smirked at her second kill, Anoriath several feet to her right. She gave him a smug look, though he couldn't see it.

"Oh, you know; a little practice, a few lessons, natural talent…" She heard a mirthful laugh from him, causing a grin of her own. "Actually, my father taught me. He was an excellent marksman. He led the group of hunters for my family."

"Ah! Where is this wonderful marksman? I don't suppose he'd be willing to show me a few tricks?" Ariel felt her grin fall and her emotions ran from happy to utterly blank.

"He's dead." Silence followed the statement, but she didn't allow it to drag on. She stood from her crouched position, sighing lightly. "Let's claim our kill before a bear does."

"Ariel, I'm sorry-"

"No need." She raised a hand in his direction to silence him, looking over at him briefly before she clipped her new glass bow to her back. Elrindir had given her a nice bargain for it, the older brother even throwing in some free glass arrows. Of course, she had bought the remaining supply, but the free arrows were nice. As it was, she had spent nearly three hundred septims. Her coin pouch felt far too light. "It happened long ago. Do not feel bad. I'm okay." That was a lie. It always was a lie. Ariel knew that she had simply become far too good at pushing away the feeling of pain when speaking of their death. She knew this feeling of emptiness well. If she focused hard enough, she could feel that deep stab of pain, ready to burst free at any moment…

Ariel moved forward with Anoriath behind her, silent and remorseful. Crouching next to the deer, she carefully pulled out her arrow, wiping it on the grass and returning it to the quiver. Blood spouted slightly from the wound at the removal of the blockage before turning into a small steady stream. She had struck it right in the throat. She stood, looking down at the deer with slight sadness.

"Hunting is hard for me," she admitted, forgetting her company. She stared at the deer with a bit of sadness. The poor creature had only been looking to fill its stomach and survive another day, and she had plucked its life away. A hand on her shoulder brought her back to reality. She turned, her eyes searching Anoriath’s expression. The young mer was kindly looking at her with understanding, but she shrugged his hand from her. "Perhaps you should take care of the rest? I'm far too regretful for my own good."

"As you wish," He said respectively, nodding toward a nearby set of rocks, where her first kill sat. Ariel followed him as he pulled the deer over to lay next to the pheasant, allowing herself to sit beside him as they waited for another target.

"I know another very talented Bosmer marksmen. I met him in Riverwood."

"Faendal?" Ariel looked over at him with curiosity before nodding.

"Yes, you know him?" Anoriath nodded.

"Yes, my brother and I traveled with him to Skyrim. He was a good friend to our father." Ariel raised a brow in interest. "He taught me a lot about hunting. My brother…was not so interested. He worries more about making a living, works better with making weapons more efficient. Bows, specifically. He enjoys hunting, but for me, it's my greatest passion." His voice had dropped low, his eyes focused in something in the distance. Ariel followed his gaze, seeing movement low to the ground. A rabbit.

Anoriath reached back to grab his own bow, his other hand grabbing an arrow. His movements were graceful as he nocked the arrow, pulling back and swiftly releasing. Ariel hummed in approval as the rabbit was hit just as it stood to sniff the air. Anoriath grinned, happy with another kill for his supply.

"Is Riften much hotter than here?" Anoriath nodded beside her.

"It can get fairly warm. You might want to reconsider your usual dress." Ariel shrugged in response. She wasn't looking forward to visiting anyplace warm. Valenwood had been torture in her short visit. The Bosmer were made for the warm and humid environment.

Ariel certainly was not. As it was, the summer months in Whiterun had been unpleasant.

"I prefer the cold."

"I imagine most Falmer do." Ariel froze, her heart slamming against her ribcage.

No, not him too…

"How…" Anoriath let out a puff of amusement, but Ariel turned toward him with wide, panicked eyes. "How do you know?" He raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest.

"Really?" When she glared, he sighed. "I have to admit, at first I didn't realize. I thought you were a vampire when you first came to Whiterun, but then Jon would tell anyone who asked that you were a Dunmer." He waved down at her hands. "But there is no second-guessing it. If you're that pale and prefer the cold, there is no way you're a Dunmer." He said confidently. Ariel sighed, shaking her head, thinking back at her last private conversation with Kodlak.

She had never imagined she would be fond of the old man when she had first joined the Companions, but after being directed to him for advice, she found him to be wise and knowledgeable. He had known. Of course he had known. Vignar probably knew. Skjor, even. Anyone who studied the history of the Companions in detail, and read Ysgramor's historical notes, had probably figured it out. Yet he had said nothing until she had sought him out. She had wondered out loud how many others knew, and he reassured her that she had little to fear. She had felt so secure, then, by his simple words. He had given her hope that there were more like her, or someone who could help her with her dream. He had even shared the fact that he had his own journal, several of them, filled with dreams that he felt meant something to him.

It seemed he had been wrong in his observation, though. She did not hide herself well.

"You're brother…does he know?" Anoriath shrugged.

"You'll have to ask him yourself. " Ariel didn't respond, trying to calm herself. If Anoriath knew, that meant his brother most likely had figured it out, which meant Faendal probably figured it out as well. She groaned softly in frustration, bringing her hand up to rest against her forehead. She hated headaches.

"Not a single damn elf in Morrowind or Valenwood questioned me. Not a single Altmer in Cyrodiil! But once I come to Skyrim, every single mer suddenly has a clue? How is that possible?" Anoriath had been staring at her during her rant, leaning back at one point as she threw her arms up in frustration.

"No mer has lived long enough to see your kin. Except those in Skyrim," he pointed out simply, pushing himself off the rock they had chosen to sit upon. It took only moments before Ariel let her jaw drop.

Of course! How could she have forgotten? Between history and the evidence lurking in caves, it wouldn't be hard for anyone to figure out what she was, here. Luckily for her, it didn't seem many of the humans cared much for mer history.

"I'm an idiot," she mumbled, her tone crestfallen. Anoriath chuckled, holding a hand out to her. She took it, allowing him to pull her off the rock.

"Care to extend our trip? Perhaps you could tell me more about your travels? You seem quite young to be such a seasoned traveler." He asked, moving out in the direction of the rabbit. Ariel followed him closely, pushing away her chiding thoughts. As long as she stayed hidden and no mer stabbed her in the back, she'd be fine.

Right?

"I am, I suppose…I try to keep moving." Ariel stopped when he did, watching as he bent to remove his arrow from his kill.

Ariel couldn't recall the beginning of her travels well. Leaving the cave that was supposed to be their safe haven was traumatic enough to plague her thoughts forever, but the space between leaving and finding herself in Blacklight was blurred. She thought about the first Dunmer she'd ever seen; a woman as old then as Ariel is now. Ariel had been in a sorry state, covered in blood and wounds, emaciated and exhausted. It had taken nearly a year to regain health, in which she spent her days with the woman. Adomene Falathil.

She was a year overdue to visit. Perhaps she'd provide her a new cowl.

"I started my travels in Blacklight. Spent about a year there. I…don't remember how I got there. I don't even know where I came from. I had lived in the same place for two decades before…" _before everyone was slaughtered_ "…before I had to leave." Anoriath nodded, clipping the rabbit to his belt. He began to lead back to the deer she had killed, listening intently. "I spent the next three decades traveling Morrowind. I don't know if you've ever been, but Blacklight was…stunning. Nothing like Whiterun, or any other city I've seen. The Imperial City of Cyrodiil is entirely different, as well. I traveled East and then South until eventually I found myself in Kragenmoor, just a few miles from the border. Of course, after three decades of traveling and working, I saved up the coin and…well, bought a house." They had reached the deer, her pheasant joining the rabbit, but Anoriath seemed intent on cutting the deer meat and leaving the carcass. She watched as he expertly sliced the flesh. The Bosmer were survivalists to be envied.

"You expected to stay in Morrowind?"

"No, but I did like it there. The Dunmer were pleasant to be around, despite their somewhat…tense society." Ariel smiled slightly at the irony that her current interest was a Dunmer. "I didn't want to stay long, though. Staying still would make me…anxious. So I continued west into Cyrodiil to Cheydinhal." She smiled as she remembered the beautiful landscape. Everything was so well kept there, from buildings and shrubbery to the beautiful bridge covered in complex ornamental stone work. "It was an easy transition for me, as there were many Dunmer immigrants there. But it was a tense time. The Thalmor had recently taken control of Cyrodiil. Their presence had not yet reached the small city, but…it was greatly anticipated. Everyone was suspicious of me. The Orcs were….awful and barbaric, at best." Ariel continued her story, telling him of her travels to the Imperial City that left her missing Blacklight before she moved on to settle in Skingrad, just long enough to try and help an eccentric Bosmer.

"Glarthir?" Anoriath looked at her thoughtfully. "Yes, that seems fairly familiar. Perhaps someone I knew as a child.."

"He was insanely paranoid. He thought people were watching him at every corner. Ended up just running back to Valenwood. I followed him, of course. But…I didn't go far beyond Arenthia.. I couldn't handle the brutality of the Thalmor there," she said softly, grimacing at the memory. It was common knowledge that most of the Bosmer in Valenwood hated the Thalmor quite thoroughly, but many had accepted their presence as an unwavering force. The High Elves were cruel in their punishment to the rebellious Wood Elves. "I saw things there that…I hope to never see again." Ariel moved her gaze up from the ground back to Anoriath, noting his frown.

"My brother and I were sent to Skyrim with Faendal when we were young, out of anticipation for the Thalmor," he admitted, picking up the bloody satchel of deer meat he had collected and placing the rabbit inside. His hands were covered in blood, but he had done a relatively clean and precise job. "My brother thinks I worry too much, but I wait eagerly for each letter from our father." Ariel let her eyes linger on him for a moment, a heavy melancholic feeling taking over her. Looking past her, Anoriath moved to the small stream not far from them, washing his hands in the water. "I have something I would like to ask you." Standing, he turned back toward her to find her eyes on him. "I would like to see your face. I've never seen a Snow Elf, not even an illustration."

"Is that why you've brought me out here? To see what I look like?" Despite the annoyance she felt at the thought, her voice was calm. She could easily tell the hunter no, with no threat from the Bosmer. However, his eyes widened greatly and he lifted his hands in a submissive manner.

"No! Not at all! I only wish to know what my friend looks like before she leaves." He smiled at her a little sheepishly, reminding her how young and innocent he really was.

Anoriath reminded Ariel of Larena, in some aspects. In fact, the two might have even been the same age! While still a decade or so younger than herself, Ariel knew it was not her age that had stomped out the innocence and curiosity from her. She had been forced to mature far too fast. Perhaps that's why she felt the corners of her  
lips tug upward on their own, causing her to sigh lightly. Reaching up, she pulled down the mask of her cowl and pushed the hood down, revealing herself to him as she looked into his startled eyes.

"Wow," he said softly, his eyes moving over her. "You're beautiful." Ariel shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, the heat of a blush rising to her face. "You are half human?"

"No..what would give you that idea?" He moved closer to her, lifting a hand to place it on her cheek timidly. When she didn't protest, he traced her jawline.

"Your face is round. It is unique to any mer I've ever met." His fingers found her high cheekbones. "Your eyes are straight and rounded, as well. Did all Snow Elves share these features?" He removed his hand as she shook her head.

"No…just my mother and I. But we numbered barely a hundred."

"You know, you could probably pass for a very pale Breton. All you'd need to do is hide your hair and ears. That mask will get bothersome quickly in the heat of the Rift." Ariel had already righted her cowl, considering his words.

"I'll keep that in mind." She looked up suddenly, her eyes scanning the night sky. She had taken much longer than she had anticipated, not expecting to tell the Bosmer her travel story. "I need to get back to Jorrvaskr. Athis will probably be mad at me," She said, sighing with slight amusement.

"I need to wash this meat off before I prepare it for tomorrow. I can escort you back, if you'd like?" Ariel shook her head, smiling.

"No, it's quite alright. I think I can handle it," She joked, turning to leave.

"Ariel?" She froze, turning to give him a questioning look, though he couldn't see it. "Thank you. I thoroughly enjoyed your company." She smiled, waving over her shoulder as she continued back toward the city, pulling the map from her pack.

Riften. Likely, there wouldn't be anyone there to help understand her dream...she sighed, looking up at the sky.  
She wondered if _they_ had any obnoxious priests yelling just outside of where she'd sleep...


	7. Riften

4E 201: 27th of Midyear - 5:19 pm

"People of Riften! Heed my words. The return of the dragons is not mere coincidence. This is one of the signs! The signs that Lady Mara is displeased with your constant inebriation!"

"Oh, oblivion _take_ me," Ariel groaned quietly, the door to the Bee and Barb shutting heavily behind her. When she had asked herself about raving priests, she had not meant it to be a _challenge._

"Put down your flagons filled with your vile liquids and embrace the teachings of the handmaiden of Kyne!"

"Maramal, we've talked about this." Ariel looked over at the Argonian barmaid at the same time as the priest, lifting a brow in interest.

Ariel had met very few Argonians outside of Southern Morrowind. Even then, their numbers were few. She honestly had not expected to see any in Skyrim at all. Behind her stood a male Argonian, broom in hand. He sat the broom against the wall and moved toward the priest, an exasperated expression on his face.

"Milady?" Allowing her attention to be ripped from the scene in front of her, Ariel turned her attention to the source of the voice on her left. He was an Imperial with dark hair, dark eyes, and a handsomely shaped face with a small dark bit of stubble under his lip, which was currently arced slightly upward in a lazy smirk. "Might I interest you in the unmatched skill of a battle mage for hire? You look to be a frequent traveler. Surely a maiden such as yourself would appreciate the support of a resourceful and skilled mage."

"A spellsword?" She observed the sword leaning against the bench beside him. It looked to be of iron or steel, a basic sword that was obviously only meant as a support in battle. The sheath and hilt were in rough shape, telling tales of many battles and someone who was poor at weapon care.

"Indeed! My skill in battle is unmatched! Fortunately for you, that skill can be bought." Ariel fought hard to control her tongue, ready to comment on his arrogance. Instead, she scanned the inn, looking for her best route to the barmaid. "The only thing better than a powerful mage fighting at your side is…well, nothing, really." Ariel scoffed quietly, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, thank you, I will keep that in mind for my next adventure," She said, moving away from the mage without looking back. She knew she bit back a bit too much, but her annoyance really should have been tangible, at that point. After all, her travels had not gone as planned, and she was hot and exhausted. She moved passed several customers toward the barmaid, avoiding several near-hit encounters involving swinging flagons and her face.

The barmaid looked up at her with suspicious eyes, obviously uncomfortable by her dress. Ariel still chose to wear her mask, for the time being, until she got to know her company in Riften. Anoriath and Athis had both warned her about the hold, making her nervous of her decision.

Might as well get the unsavory out of the way. She _did_ have a purpose to her travels, now.

Athis had given her an earful when she asked about the hold, demanding she not spend too much time there. He had warned her about the Thieves Guild and the unpleasant company, as well as the corrupt guards and poor environment. Ariel understood exactly what he meant upon entering. The stench was…unpleasant.

The heat did _nothing_ to help.

The trip had taken three weeks, when it should have only taken a couple days. Admittedly, the first couple days had been her fault. She had visited Riverwood to speak with Faendal. Her suspicions had been correct; the older mer had figured her out long ago. She'd spent two days in Riverwood, securing a hurried friendship and asking him to keep her secret close. If befriending all of the well-traveled mer in Tamriel was the only way to keep the Nords from knowing she was a Falmer, then she'd do it, if only to respect her promise to her father.

After leaving Riverwood, she'd found herself in Ivarstead, seeking shelter from rumors of a nearby dragon and roped into doing favors for the promise of coin. Her favorite had been roaming around a barrow for hours just to find a deranged adventurer and tons of draugr, the likes of which she hadn't seen since Bleak Falls Barrow. Dragging his unconscious body out of the structure had nearly broken her back, but she had acquired plenty of wealth to support the remainder of her trip…and that ridiculous tax into the city.

"If you've got the coin, you're welcome here. If not, hit the road." Ariel sighed, too tired already with the general attitude of the hold. Despite the fact that traveling and exploring eased her spirit, her mind was already exhausted and regretting her decision to leave Whiterun.

"I've got the coin. I need a room." The Argonian nodded, keeping her eyes on Ariel as she bent down and retrieved what looked to be a ledger. Her scales, dull tan and black in color as opposed to the green and yellow of the male, caught the light and shone with her movement as if she had just left the water.

Ariel had seen enough Khajiit and Argonians in her life to know that their physical differences were often more subtle than in humans and mer. Both species of beast were beautiful in their own right, though it was a strange beauty she could not understand. Observing the lizard in front of her left her with the same confusing feelings of appreciation for their kind.

"Ten septims a night." Ariel dug into her coin pouch, grabbing a handful of septims and carefully placing them on the counter, ignoring her urge to slap them down and be done with the transaction.  
"Three nights should do, for now." She pushed the septims toward her, the Argonian sifting through them quickly to count them before picking up a quill to write in her ledger.

"I'll show you to your room." She swept the gold into her own pouch before moving around the counter. "Follow me." Ariel pushed away from the counter, following behind her to the stairs before she began talking. "I am Keerava. If you need anything, please ask me or Talen-Jei, the keeper downstairs." Ariel remained silent as she was brought upstairs to the first room straight from the landing. She noticed that this inn seemed slightly larger than any she'd been in up to this point. "If you'd like to extend your rent, come find me." With that, she handed Ariel the key before wordlessly returning to the bar.

A wave of relief swept over her as she stepped inside the room, shutting the door behind her. She could hear the bard below playing the flute, and some shouting of encouragement, but it was greatly muffled, much to her satisfaction. Darkness had begun to fall outside, leaving the hold covered in a light golden-orange glow which shone through her window and painted her room to match. Removing her weaponry, Ariel locked the door and looked around. Directly in front of her was one lonely window, looking out over a market with three stalls and few customers. To her right was a small bed that looked far too good right now, and to her right was a basic dresser and a small table. She used the dresser for her weapons and pouches, as was habit, and kept her robes on. Despite the fact that she had gotten used to roaming around Jorrvaskr without coverage, it was best to keep covered in this new hold, no matter how unbearably warm she felt. With the threat of thieves, Ariel could only imagine the disaster that would be one breaking into the room to find a Snow Elf.

At the thought of Jorrvaskr, Ariel felt a familiar pang of longing. She had become comfortable there, and had given herself the atmosphere of safety and companionship that she already missed. Traveling was a lonely path, one she knew all too well. She sat on her bed, her thoughts moving to the letter she had written to Larena. Faced with the possibility of never crossing paths with the Bosmer Dragonborn again, Ariel had scribbled a note to her friend explaining who she really was, and the importance that her secret be kept. Athis had questioned her decision, but Ariel had simply smiled and handed it to him. If Larena had any intention of exploring caves, particularly in the north, she'd find out regardless, and while Ariel had felt slight anxiety at how her friend would react, she found comfort in the fact that it would be read long after she had gone.

She briefly let her thoughts flicker to Athis, a smile on her lips. The morning of her departure was tense between them both, but they had made sure their last day together counted. He had shirked his training to walk Whiterun hold with her that afternoon, after spending the morning with her in the Wilderness, hunting for pelts and meat that could bring her coin for her travels. Their evening had been spent outside waiting for nightfall, when she felt most comfort in lone travel.

His passionate kiss goodbye would be something she'd not soon forget.

Brushing aside those thoughts, Ariel sighed softly before landing on her bed, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. Whiterun, the Companions, and Athis were all part of a chapter that she had successfully closed. She was in a new city now, a new chapter. One that she didn't plan to stay in long. She wondered how many chapters made up her book, now.

Ariel felt her eyes slipping closed, her thoughts quieting. Tomorrow she would visit the merchants around the city and see if they held anything valuable before looking for work, which she'd learned was not only the best way to get coin, but also the best way to get to know the land and its people. Ariel stretched, arching her back until her spine popped before curling in on herself, nestling as close to the cool sheets and soft pillow as possible. Yes, tomorrow.

* * *

28th of Midyear - 9:12 am

* * *

"Buy some armor and live to tell about it. Protect yourself right, buy armor from Grelka!"

"Rare trinkets and the finest oddities from Morrowind!"

"Beautiful baubles and gleaming gemstones over here. Jewelry with legendary Argonian craftsmanship!"  
Ariel sighed, standing just outside of the doorway of the Bee and Barb. It was like the merchants were taking turns at their stalls in a counterclockwise direction, all vying for the attention of the potential shoppers.

And she thought the Whiterun merchants were loud…

Ariel had woken up at eight after a restful night of sleep, her exhaustion working to her advantage and pushing away her thoughts and nightmares. She had taken her time making her way outside, buying a simple breakfast from Talen-Jei before returning to her room to equip her weaponry. She could already feel the effects of the oppressive heat on her body.

Maybe traveling to Rifted so close to Sun's Height was not a smart decision…

"Make love like a sabercat, or crush your enemies like a giant! Live for thousands of years! For a mere twenty gold coins, all this could be yours." Ariel froze, an eyebrow lifting in disbelief as her eyes scanned the stalls. A tall Nord with brown hair and a square face stood at a peculiar show-and-tell set up. She'd seen stalls like these before in her travels, but the items to buy were normally more extravagant than a potion. He picked up a red bottle that looked like…a glorified healing potion?  
"Falmer Blood Elixir! Get your bottle now!"

_…What?_

"Out of my way, girl." Ariel felt a hand shove her roughly to the side, causing her to trip over her own feet and fall to the ground. Her hands stopped her fall, scraping against the cobblestone ground and ripping through the fabric of her gloves, her palms burning with fresh scrapes. By the time she looked up, her head swimming, her offender had already disappeared into the inn.

"Oh, are you alright?" Ariel first saw a gray-skinned hand in front of her face, prompting her to look up at the Dunmer in front of her. "Don't mind him. Sibbi thinks he owns this city and everyone in it," He said quietly, waiting for her to take his hand. After a moment of debate, she took it, allowing him to help her up. "I haven't seen you before. Are you new here?" Ariel took her hand back quickly and turned both of them over, observing the angry red slits that could be seen in between the cuts on her thin gloves.

"Uhm, yes. I've just come from Whiterun." She said distractedly, looking back over at the market. It seemed as  
if no one else noticed the incident or cared.

"Whiterun, huh? I hear it's pretty nice there. If I had the coin, I'd go there myself." Ariel finally looked the Dunmer in the eyes, giving him the attention he deserved.

It seemed that not everyone in Riften was rude.

"Thank you for helping me, really." He smiled at her, his eyes roaming her cowl as if trying to see through it.

"Not a problem. Name's Tythis Ulen."

"Ariel."

"Nice to meet you, Ariel. Listen, I don't know what you've heard about this city, but things are rough here. Watch your back, and your coin purse. The Thieves Guild has been causing trouble again."

"Thank you for the warning, but I think I'll be alright." Tythis lifted a brow at her response before shrugging.

"Alright then. I need to get back to work." With that he turned, making his way toward a pile of logs he had apparently abandoned to help her. "Good day." Ariel watched him walk away for a moment before scanning the crowd of shoppers and merchants again.

Why waste an opportunity?

"Wait, Tythis?" She ran up to stop beside the mer, who had turned with a small smile. "I was hoping you could tell me a little more about Riften…and the Thieves Guild." This time, as he began to walk away, Ariel walked with him, careful to stay out of his way.

"There's only a few things you need to know. First, Maven Black-Briar runs this city. Be careful not to cross her. That charmer Sibbi is her son. Get the door?" Ariel opened the double door, leading out to the docks. A cool breeze blew over her as she did so, relieving her of the heat she felt, if only for a moment. "Second, the Thieves Guild works for Maven. So, they get away with everything. Keep your coin close and your valuables locked up tight." Ariel followed him down to the docks, which were mostly abandoned, save for a few workers. Tythis dropped the logs on a pile just outside the door, wiping his hands together with a sigh. "And finally, stay away from Brynjolf."

"Brynjolf?"

"That Nord who is selling Azura knows what in the market." He said, crossing his arms over his chest with an annoyed expression on his face.

"Falmer Blood Elixir." Ariel said, her voice matching his annoyance, though for entirely different reasons. Who would dare claim such an idiotic thing? If anyone knew the magical properties of her own kins' blood, it was her.  
And it certainly did not affect stamina or physical strength. Unless the Nords were really all that weak. Tythis scoffed softly, rolling his eyes.

"Falmer Blood Elixir. I guarantee you there isn't a single drop of blood in it." Ariel allowed herself a small smile.

"Well, I certainly hope not." Tythis began to lead the way back into the city, holding the door for her before pulling the axe from its holster at his waist.

"So what brings you here to Riften, Ariel?"

"The beautiful weather and hospitable residents," she replied quickly, sarcasm heavy in her voice. Her fast response caused Tythis to freeze for a moment before letting out a hearty laugh. "Really, I'm just passing through. I'm fairly new in Skyrim." Tythis had led her to a chopping block, placing a roughly cut log on the block before raising the axe high over his head. The now distant memory of the executioner staring down at her in Helgen resurfaced for only a moment as Tythis swung the axe down. As it connected with the log, she jumped slightly, one hand shooting up to rub the back of her neck as she cleared her throat. "Perhaps I should leave you to your work. I wanted to shop a bit, anyway." She muttered, her words quick. Tythis looked over at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Everything alright?"

"Yes, of course. I just need to get on with my day, and you, yours. I won't be blamed for your loss of productivity." She said, her voice light despite her heavy thoughts. So now she had a fear of axes? Ariel nearly rolled her eyes at her own discomfort. Yes, Skyrim was doing _wonders_ for her health.

"Alright then. If you ever find yourself looking for some friendly company, I'm usually done around three." He offered her a small smile and a nod before turning back to the chopping block, setting another log down. Ariel, however, didn't move. He hadn't commented that the skin around her eyes was white, or that she was obviously a mer, due to the obvious points of her ears through her cowl.

Not yet, at least.

"Tythis?"

"Hmm?"

"You don't happen to be much of an adventurer, are you?" Again she was met with a look of curiosity.

"No, not at all. If you're looking for anyone like that, you might want to talk to Marcurio or Brand-Shei. Marcurio is an Imperial spellsword, but if you've spent any time in the tavern, he's likely found you. Brand-Shei is the Dunmer running a stall in the market." Ariel felt her anxiety subside slightly as she nodded.

She wasn't sure she'd ever become comfortable with the idea of having to reveal her race to anyone. It was like putting her life in anothers' hands. Sure, she could trust Anoriath and his brother, who hadn't yet brought up her race, and she knew Athis would keep her secret safe. Larena had earned the truth and would keep It close, and Faendal had promised on his life he would not share his knowledge.

But what if, one day, an elf guessed her race and became her enemy? What then?

"Thank you, Tythis. I hope to speak to you again soon." Ariel didn't wait around, this time. She moved over toward the circle in the center of the hold, her eyes roaming the stalls. Ignoring the food stall, Ariel entered the circle and made her way over to the armor stall, keeping her face turned away from Brand-Shei. Her eyes set themselves on a beautiful dagger instead, sheathed and hung from one of the roof supports of the armor stand. In fact, she was so distracted by the ebony blade at her approach that she didn't even take notice of the woman behind the stall. That is, until she spoke.

"You gonna buy something, or are you just gonna stand around and gawk all day?" Ariel raised an eyebrow, looking at the young Nord woman in front of her.

"I'm sorry?"

"You should be. You're wasting my time and taking up space! Buy something or go away." The womans' face was twisted into a snarl, her eyebrows drawn close together and her lip curled upward to slightly show her teeth.

Was this woman out of her mind?

"Do you treat all your customers this way?" Ariel couldn't be bothered to hide the annoyance in her voice. The heat sucked out all of her energy, leaving her aggravated and sarcastic.

Interestingly enough, that very attitude had been what gained her many friendships in Morrowind.

"Look, I've moved all over Skyrim selling these bits of junk, and I'm barely scraping by. I'm not out to make friends, and I couldn’t care less if you're happy about your purchase or not. I just need the coin. The sooner I get out of Skyrim, the better." Ariel felt a flood of shame as a slight weariness took over the womans' facial expression. She knew what it was like to scrape by. True, the work she'd done in Ivarstead had left her with plenty of coin, mostly found in the barrow, but she'd spent plenty of days wondering if she would be able to buy dinner or if she'd have to find nourishment from some berries.

"Oh. In that case…Perhaps we could make a deal on this dagger, here? I've not seen a blade so fine in all of my travels." It was true. The blade itself was crafted of fine ebony and silver, gleaming in the light and sitting loosely in its leather half-sheathe. The dagger was single-edged and not straight, which Ariel found peculiar. Sure, she'd seen the swords of the Redguard warriors, but even those blades were gracefully curved in one upward sweep of steel. No, this dagger was crafted with several turns in the metal, coming to an uneasy, thin jagged edge. The blade seemed to be artistically crafted to show swirls of silver and ebony combined, leading to a black hilt of dyed leather.

"That is an ebony dagger. Just bought it from a traveling merchant. I'll give it to you for 500 septims." Ariel's eyes shot back to her, snorting in amusement and disbelief.

"500? Right. I'm sure I could find a blade, even this beautiful, for much less somewhere else. No deal." Ariel began to turn, a small smirk sliding onto her lips. She knew this game. She had plenty of practice with bartering in Cyrodiil, after all.

"Wait. I'm willing to work with you. Give me an offer." Ariel turned back around, unable to keep the victorious smile from her lips. Once again, her cowl acted as a savior. Ariel took another look at the blade, her eyes scanning for imperfections. The silver edge shone evenly as she looked from different angles, showing its even sharpening and smooth edge. The blade itself carried no stains to tell of previous use, nor could she find any tears in the hilt or sheathe. While she was certain this woman, Grelka, knew this was a fine blade in perfect condition, she'd only hurt herself in admitting it.

"I'll offer you…two hundred and fifty septims," she said finally, staring back at Grelka to gauge her response.  
Grelka wasn't too happy.

"I paid three hundred and fifteen septims for that blade. I plan to make a profit. Four hundred." She crossed her arms over her chest, as if to signify it was her final offer. Ariel bit her bottom lip, considering her options. She had the coin, surely, but she didn't have enough to justify spending a large chunk of it on a dagger.

"How about this," Ariel reached down to her belt, unclipping the dagger that was sheathed on her right hip. She put it up on the stall, unsheathing the dagger and twisting it in her hands. "Skyforge steel dagger, crafted by Eorland Gray-Mane himself." She flipped it skillfully to hand the dagger hilt-first to Grelka, who took it with analytical eyes. "Relatively new. I bought it right as I left Whiterun a few weeks ago, and I've only used it once. Well-kept, I promise you." Grelka held it up toward the sky, likely examining the blade and its edges. "I'll give you that piece of work, along with two hundred and seventy-five septims. Together, that's worth nearly three fifty, and you get something else to sell." Grelka seemed to consider her offer, her eyes still set on the blade.  
After a moment, the woman sighed, almost inaudibly.

"I suppose I'm not the only one in Skyrim trying to survive. Take the blade, it's yours." Ariel grinned, immediately reaching up to remove the sheath from the hook. Attaching it to her belt, she noted that the ebony dagger felt slightly heavier than the steel. The blade itself was definitely longer. "Come back when you're ready to spend more gold. Goodness knows I can use it."

"Thanks for the deal." Ariel muttered, trying to push down the triumphant grin. This would surely be a blade she'd hold onto for quite a while. Ariel moved toward the next stall, the sight of necklaces hanging down catching her attention. While Fralia Gray-Mane had run a fairly nice jewelry stand in Whiterun, these necklaces looked unique and…sturdy.

"Greeting, honored friend. I am Madesi. Could I interest you in some fine jewelry?" Ariel approached the raspy-voiced Argonian who held her in his sights. For a moment, she wondered if he was the adventuring type, her heart quickening.

But what Argonian would be deeply familiar with the history of Falmer?

"Hello, friend. How's business?" She asked nonchalantly, her eyes locked on his. No spark of recognition or suspicion. Just gentle curiosity.

Good.

"Not well, I'm afraid. That Brynjolf…he keeps draining the people's pockets with his ridiculous miracle cures."

"People actually buy into it?" Ariel asked, unable to hide the surprise from her voice. She was quite certain that if it had been some other product, she would not have been able to believe his claim of beast-like lovemaking or super strength. Surely the people of Riften weren't truly that dull.

"Surprising, I know. A few months ago it was troll fat salve, and now he's got something new."

"Falmer Blood Elixir." Ariel couldn't stop the airy laugh that broke out as she spoke those words again. The more she spoke of it, the more it turned from the most annoying thing to the funniest thing she'd ever heard.

"Falmer blood….I doubt he'd even approach one of those vile creatures." Ariel felt her smile drop before she sighed softly.

"Yes, well…who would? Have you?"

"I like living, and I plan to do so for a while. No, I doubt any of these people have, Brynjolf especially. Not that anything can be done about his fake remedies. He's in good with the Thieves Guild." There was obvious distaste in Madesi's voice at the mention of the guild, and Ariel couldn't help but frown.

Were a bunch of thieves really that much of a threat? Would everyone she talked to in Skyrim mention the Thieves Guild to her?

"Well, what about the guards? Are none of them willing to chase after the thieves?"

"Sure, if they are caught in the act, but it's only for appearances. Everyone knows the Thieve's Guild makes their home in the Ratway. The guards follow more orders from Maven Black-Briar than they do the Jarl, and Maven supports the Thieves Guild." Ariel couldn't help but look back at Brynjolf, her interest in the guild now peaked.

Maybe she'd have a little conversation with the ridiculous man.

"Thank you for the information, Madesi. Now, do you have anything enchanted?"


	8. The Guild

4E 201: 28th of Midyear - 9:21 pm

"You look like you can hold your liquor. How 'bout a friendly contest to win a staff?" Ariel shifted her gaze from her current target to the slightly drunk Breton across from her. She had seated herself at a lonely table against the wall of the Bee and Barb, hoping to discourage conversation with anyone. Of course, this man had promptly seated himself across from her, staring at her silently and intently for five minutes.

Ariel had mostly ignored him, hardly lifting her bottle of Black-Briar Mead as she was far too busy observing Brynjolf from across the room. The Nord had seated himself on a bench near the door, speaking with a tough looking woman by him. Occasionally, she would find his eyes sweep the room and land on her. She knew his slow sweep of the room was an excuse to observe her. How did she know? Well that's exactly what she had been doing to observe him. She had absolutely no interest in the group of drunken laborers around the room, but their actions provided ample opportunity to 'observe' her surroundings.

"No thanks," she said, moving her gaze over the room again. "I don't really feel like drinking."

"Well come find me when you do, my friend," The man pushed himself up from the chair, wobbling slightly before gaining balance. "Come find me when you do." Ariel looked over at him as he staggered away, hiccupping and tripping over himself toward the bar. In truth, Ariel hadn't felt like heavy drinking since leaving the Companions. Or, rather, since the bandit attack. Ariel reached over for her bottle of mead, remembering its existence. She'd only taken a couple sips, so far. The blue bottle of mead was smooth and tasted better than the Honningbrew mead she'd had in Whiterun. While this was a treat to taste there, there was plenty to be had in Riften.

"Never done an honest day's work in your life for all that coin you're carryin', eh lass?" She froze, her hand tightening around the bottle. She had looked away for only a few seconds, and he was already on her like a saber cat on a deer. She turned, her gaze examining his fine robes before slowly trailing up to his face, and the confident smirk upon his lips.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm saying you've got the coin, but you didn't earn a septim of it honestly," he said, coming around to sit in the chair the Breton had just left. "I can tell." Each word he muttered was full of confidence, spoken in deep low tones. She had wondered why the women in the market seemed to flock to him. His voice was deep and smooth, and he seemed mysterious and calculating. 

"Oh, really? You might want to fix your radar, pretty boy, because most of this was earned honestly." She snapped, her patience already thin. The small amount of mead already had heated her blood and loosened her tongue. He had snuck up on her, and had the audacity to question her wealth? Brynjolf stared at her for a moment with a deeply analytical gaze before a sly smile crept onto his lips.

"Most of it, eh? What of the rest?" Ariel stared at him, hand still glued to her bottle. Had she let that slip so easily? The longer she took to answer, the more confidence he regained. "Steal it from someone's dresser? Or from a tomb?"

"My wealth is none of your business." She finally answered, taking a calming breath before bringing the bottle up to her face, gently pulling down the mask of her cowl only slightly. She didn't trust him one bit. He was too sly, like the foxes she had seen in her travels. She had to keep her supplies closely guarded, even during the day time. The white and red furred creatures were daring and quick, sneaking close to steal some food and darting away before she could catch them

Ariel found a bit of amusement in her observation of his reddish-brown hair.

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong, lass," he said, sitting back in the chair. The angle of the light caused half of his face to be shrouded in darkness while the other half was heavily shadowed, his bone structure illuminated perfectly to show sharp edges. His eyes reflected the flames from the hearth as he stared at her. "Wealth is my business." He looked away from her for the first time, his hand landing on the table to find the cork from her mead bottle. He picked it up, observing it as if it were the most interesting gem he'd ever seen. "Maybe you'd like a taste?" Ariel glared at him under her cowl, trying to seem disinterested. To be honest, he had caught her attention.

Ariel didn't have the cleanest record, as far as stealing. There were times when a stolen apple or cut of meat was all she could get to survive. She'd never really taken to stealing coin, but maybe she could make this work to her advantage…

She shook her head. No. Thieving was something she did to survive and only when necessary, not as a hobby. Surely she could find other work around Riften….

But would it be worth it?

"No. I'm not a common thief. I may need the coin, but I'm not looking to ruin anyone's life." She crossed her arms over her chest in a defiant manner, her eyes set on his as she dared him to challenge her further. Instead, he smiled.

"There's hesitance in your eyes, lass. Why not give it a chance? There's no contract." Ariel bit her lip, partly of frustration and partly of consideration. "I have a bit of an errand to perform, but I need an extra pair of hands." He sat back up in the chair, only to lean in close to her, his eyes on hers. "And in my line of work, extra hands are well-paid."

"What would I need to do?" Ariel didn't miss the spark of triumph in Brynjolf's eyes. He thought he had her.  
Damn cocky Nords.

"Simple. I'm going to cause a distraction, and you're going to steal Madesi's silver ring from a strongbox under his stand. Once you have it, I want you to place it in Brand-Shei's pocket without him noticing." Ariel frowned, her glare returning full-force.

"Why in oblivion would I do that to Madesi?" Brynjolf's eyes went wide for a moment and he looked around the room.

"Quiet. Madesi will get his ring back. It's just a means to an end."

"Well why plant the ring on Brand-Shei? What did he do?"

"There's someone that wants to see him put out of business." Brynjolf returned to his relaxed pose, though he did lean closer to her. She had no clue why. The inn was loud and alive with obnoxious drinkers and the slurring bard. "That's all you need to know."

"No, I need to know why." She insisted, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Brynjolf once again analyzed her before answering, still holding that infuriating smirk. A talker _and_ a thinker. He was soaking up her responses, trying to figure out what buttons to push and when to push them. And he was damn good at it.

"Not one to fall in blindly, eh lass? I like that. We've been contracted to make sure Brand-Shei remembers not to meddle in affairs that aren't his own. Now, since we're not the Dark Brotherhood, we're not going to kill him. We're just going to make sure he sits in the prisons. In all reality, he'll probably be back behind his stand in less than a week." Ariel remained silent, her eyes moving down to her bottle of mead as she processed his words. Teaching someone a lesson, that was all? Who knew what Brand-Shei actually did to deserve the soiling of his name….

But, if he would be back in a week, selling goods like nothing happened; it would give her time to consider how to approach him. After all, she hadn't forgotten what Tythis said. Brand-Shei had been around Skyrim. Who knew if he'd ever seen her twisted brothers and sisters? And she would get some coin for the job…

Ariel nearly snorted at the irony. She had spent months fighting alongside a group of honored warriors. They counted her as a shield-sibling; someone to be trusted. Yet here she was, about to take an offer from a thief.

What would Athis think of her? What would Larena say?

What would her family think?

"I'm in." She turned in her chair to fully face the Nord. "But if he isn't back behind his stall in a week, it'll be you who answers for it. Now how much am I getting paid for this ridiculous job of yours?" The smirk grew to a grin. This man was well-gifted in the art of speech, and he knew it.

She could feel that self-appointed badass atmosphere beginning to poke its nose into her life once again.

"A taste, lass."

* * *

29th of Midyear - 7:56 am

* * *

"Good morning, my friend." Ariel looked up from the ground to meet Madesi's eyes. "Eager to see my new pieces?" Her gaze fell to his hands, which were carefully holding several necklaces and circlets. Beautiful works of silver, copper and gold were peppered with gleaming gemstones with perfect cuts. He was truly a master at his craft. Madesi turned and began arranging them on his stand, prompting Ariel to look around.

The other merchants were approaching, and Brynjolf was behind them.

Ariel had woken early that morning at about seven. She had avoided breakfast; her stomach tied in knots, and instead moved outside to sit on the stone wall surrounding the market, slightly to the side of the Argonians' stall. She could see the strongbox from there, just passed a small wooden door. The morning was kind and cool, with a tiny breeze blowing over the walls and through the city. The sky was cloudy and threatening rain, and Ariel hadn't felt so focused since entering the Rift.

"Perhaps. You said you make all of this fine jewelry yourself? Your new pieces look beautiful." Madesi reached up to grasp at a chain around his neck, pulling it up and opening his palm.

Two keys! Well, there'd be no way she'd get her hands on those. Madesi bent down as he answered her,  
unlocking the sliding door under his stall before reaching in for the strongbox.

"I do. Sadly, I'm one of the few traditional Saxhleel jewelers that remain in Tamriel; it's becoming a lost art. Only trouble is gathering materials has become hazardous. The roads to the mines and to the other cities are thick with bandits…and worse." He had dropped some items into the strongbox, though she was unable to see what from this angle. Immediately, he locked the box and the door before straightening again.

"Saxhleel?" Madesi turned to her, placing the chain back around his neck.

"Forgive me. It is a term I have not used in some time. While most in Tamriel call my kind Argonian, we prefer the term Saxhleel." Ariel raised an eyebrow, truly interested in this small bit of information. Having not met many Argonians, she was unsurprised to be ignorant of this fact. "Madesi was actually my original Saxhleel name. Unlike others, I decided to embrace tradition and keep it that way."

"Is it disrespectful to refer to you as Argonian?" Ariel had the information she needed. She knew the location of the strongbox. She knew she would have to pick the lock to both the door and the box. But what sort of person would she be to ignore this opportunity? After all, what if she one day required the help of an Argonian?

"In this land, perhaps it is. No Nord would ever refer to us by our proper." His tone held a slight bitterness to it as he responded, but he still regarded her with kind eyes, appreciative for her consideration.

"Hmm. Thank you, Madesi." Ariel jumped down from the wall, locking the information away. "I hope you have a wonderful day."

"And to you, a day of good fortune, friend." Ariel began to walk straight across the market, her eyes set on Brynjolf's stall. The Nord had set up his stall, along with the rest of the merchants, and was already shouting out to the few customers who had joined them.

"Genuine Falmer Blood Elixir for sale! See into other people's thoughts for twenty septims!"

"Alright, Brynjolf. Let's get this over with." He turned to smile at her, the mischief in his eyes causing her stomach to twist uncomfortably.

She was going to Oblivion, for this.

"I'm glad you've decided to help. Alright lass. Wait until I start the distraction, then show me what you can do." He said, his voice low. Ariel let her eyes shift to the beggar not far from them, seemingly paying them no mind whatsoever. She was rather close, her eyes covered by knotted hair and obviously mumbling to herself, but Ariel couldn't help but feel slightly suspicious. What kind of coin would she get for turning them in? Did Brynjolf have to say that much?

"Make it good. I've two locks to pick." She muttered, turning on her heel to the left. She dug into her coin purse, pulling out a few septims before crouching in front of the young, dirty woman. "Here. This should help you buy some food." The woman looked up at her with a tanned face smudged with dirt, her eyes wide in surprise and gratitude.

"Oh, thank you!" She said quickly, a smile breaking out on her face. "Divines bless your kind heart!" Ariel stood quickly, letting her eyes linger for only a moment before she turned and moved toward the forge just outside of the market circle. Yes, divines bless her heart, and forgive her for putting an innocent man in jail.

If she even succeeded.

Ariel stopped just outside the forge at a weapon rack, observing the newly forged swords and armor, which was displayed on a table nearby. The man working the forge paid her no mind, his attention set fully on the scorching hot metal. Who had the time to be hospitable when something that hot was that close to your skin? She pretended to browse the blades, looking with fake critical eyes as she tried to control her nerves. 

"Everyone, everyone! Gather around!" Ariel turned, just like the crowd, at Brynjolf's call. "I have something amazing to show you! Gather around, all!" Ariel noticed everyone flock to Brynjolf's stall, most of the shoppers intrigued. Perhaps more so with Brynjolf than of his product, seeing as most of the shoppers were women. Madesi, Grelka and Brand-Shei all moved to watch as well, though each held a look of annoyance.

She'd have to be quick.

Ariel glanced back at the blacksmith, whose back was now facing her as he continued working. As it seemed, Brynjolf's charm didn't work on everyone. Keeping an eye out for guards, Ariel nonchalantly walked into the market circle, looking around as if searching for wares. As soon as the nearest guard turned his back, she dropped down into a crouch, her eyes scanning her surroundings before she slunk over to hide behind Madesi's stall. She reached into the pack at her hip, grabbing a handful of lockpicks before setting to work.

Ariel had become rather efficient at picking locks in her travels, having spent enough time in caves and the like. Because, really, there was nothing wrong with stealing from bandits, was there? While well-made locks were always a problem for her, simple locks like the one on the sliding door were as smooth for her to pick as Black-Briar reserve was to swallow.

"Come on, Brynjolf. What is it this time?" Ariel recognized Brand-Shei's voice, thick with impatience. She turned the lock and heard the satisfying click before she slid the door open, revealing the strongbox.  
But, it seems, her luck had already run dry for the day. Her first attempt to pick the lock of the box had left her with a broken pick and a curse on her lips.

"Patience Brand-Shei. This is a rare opportunity, and I wouldn't want you to get left out." Ariel placed a new pick in the lock, this time using slower motions. The lock turned halfway before resisting, the pick falling from her grasp and clattering to the ground. She froze, her heart thudding in her chest as she waited for anyone to investigate. After a moment, she continued.

" _That's_ what you said about the Wisp Essence, and it turned out to be crushed Nirnroot mixed with water!" Madesi seemed to be in the same state as Brand-Shei, his voice filled with venom that she never expected to hear from the polite Argonian. Ariel shoved the pick back in and changed her original position ever so slightly to the right, opposite to the pull of the lock.

It clicked.

"Well, that was a simple misunderstanding. But this item is the real thing." Ariel opened the box, moving several items around. Papers, coins, gems, and the ring! Ariel grabbed it quickly before allowing the top of the box to shut. She peeked around the side of the stall; about to move toward Brand-Shei when a single thought entered her mind at the last second, causing her to freeze. She rolled her eyes, turning and sliding the door shut beneath the stall before she finally moved.

Brand-Shei was seated on a few crates just to the side of his stall, likely where he kept his merchandise. It was an easy hiding spot for Ariel in the dim morning light. She snuck her way around the market as quietly as she could, keeping her head below the stone wall to avoid the guards.

"Lads and lasses, I give you….Falmer Blood Elixir!"

"Oh come on. Are you talking about the Snow Elves?" Ariel froze just as she reached his stall, looking up at the back of Brand-Shei's head.

So, he _did_ know about her kin. While most thought of Falmer as twisted underground creatures, he knew they were once Snow Elves.

"The one and only! Mystical beings who live in legends, and were masters of great magic." Ariel furrowed her brows, looking through the space between crates at Brynjolf. "Imagine the power that coursed through their veins!" Ariel looked down at her gloved hands, as if her 'great power' would reveal itself. Masters of great magic? She was definitely not a master of any magic. Sure, her family had performed small acts of magic in the cave system to aid in their survival, but she'd never seen anything much beyond lighting fires, healing, and creating light from nothing. Ariel shrugged, brushing it off as Brynjolf holding everyone's attention. Surely, if she were a master of magic, she'd have found out by now.

Right?

"How did you get that, then? No one's seen them in years!" Ariel moved forward, bracing one hand against the crates while the other grasped the ring tightly between two fingers. Luckily for her, Brand-Shei was wearing a simple set of clothes that had two large pockets in the front. Easy to slip anything into…  
Unluckily, Ariel never took into pickpocketing. In fact, she'd never even thought about picking anyone's pocket before.

"My sources must remain a secret for their own protection, but I can promise that the contents are genuine." Ariel quietly sucked in a deep breath, holding it as she reached forward. The pocket was just under his arm, which was rested on another crate as he leaned to the side. If he moved his arm down, she'd be screwed. She sloppily pushed the pocket open with the edge of the ring, her eyes constantly moving between Brand-Shei's arm, the side of his face, and her hand.

"One sip of the elixir, and your wishes will be granted. Great wealth, everlasting life or perhaps limitless power could be yours!" Ariel pushed the ring in only far enough that it would not fall out once he stood. She removed her hand with as much care as she used approaching, her breath leaving her in a silent but relieved sigh. Her heart couldn't have been more violent to her poor ribs, leaving her chest hurting. Or maybe it was the amount of time she had held her breath.

"How much does it cost?" Ariel slowly moved away from Brand-Shei and his stall, moving backwards toward the nearest exit of the market circle.

"Only twenty gold septims! Hurry before my supply is gone!" She peeked around the side of the wall, searching for any guards or passer-bys. Finding no one, she rose from her squatted position to stand as she walked forward, moving as if she were just passing through. Turning her head, her eyes locked with Brynjolf's. "Well, it seems that my time is up! Come back tomorrow if you wish to buy!" Ariel turned and looked down into the water below as she reached the railing, her eyes scanning the brownish liquid with disgust.

It took a bit of waiting, but soon he was by her side, leaning his back against the railing and crossing his arms.  
"Looks like I chose the right person for the job. And I have your payment, just as I promised." Ariel stood straight as he reached out with a pouch of gold in his hand. She took it, eyeing him suspiciously before opening the coin purse.

"How much?"

"One hundred septims." Ariel looked up at him sharply.

"One hundred septims? To put my neck on the line and help you with _your errand_?" Her words were spoken in a quiet hiss, but her anger was clear. Despite her reaction, Brynjolf simply smiled.

"Like I said, a taste," he purred. "Here comes the guard." Ariel turned as a guard came running from the direction of the keep, entering the market and approaching Brand-Shei.

A wave of regret passed over her immediately.

"Alright Brand-Shei, turn out your pockets. We know you have it!"

"Have what? What in the blazes are you talking about?"

"Don't play stupid. I said turn out your pockets, now!"

"Does he have to be so aggressive?" Ariel asked, biting her lip as she watched the confused Dunmer scowl at the guard.

"It's all about appearance, lass." Brynjolf said quietly, unfazed by the events. Brand-Shei reached into his pockets with a glare.

"I'm telling you, I don't….wait," he pulled out the ring she had so carefully placed in his pocket, his body visibly tensing. "What's this ring? This isn't mine!"

"That's right, it isn't yours. You're under arrest, Brand-Shei." Brand-Shei slammed the ring down on the surface of his stall, the tell-tale temper of a Dunmer taking over.

"This is insane, I didn't steal anything! I never saw this ring before in my entire life!"

"We can do this one of two ways. You can walk with me up to the keep, or…" the guard reached down and unsheathed his sword, causing Ariel's jaw to drop in disbelief. They wouldn't really hurt him, would they? "I can drag your lifeless body. Your choice."

"But, I…" Brand-Shei sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat as he regained his senses. "Very well." The Dunmer moved around his stall, the guard grabbing the ring before leading Brand-Shei to the keep.

"That was awful to watch," Ariel admitted, her heart feeling like a weight in her chest.

"He won't be hurt. It's just to teach him a lesson. And we bring in coin, thanks to you." Ariel rolled her eyes.

"Yes, thanks to me, an innocent man is going to sit in a cell for a week."

"The way things have been going around here, it's a relief that our plan went off without a hitch," He said, obviously ignoring her bitter statement. Ariel turned to him, eager to remove her thoughts from the poor merchant.

She'd have to find a way to apologize to him…inconspicuously, of course.

"What's been going on?" Brynjolf sighed before waving dismissively at the air.

"Bah, my organization's been having a run of bad luck, but I suppose that's just how it goes." He shrugged. "But never mind that, you did the job and you did it well. Best of all, there's more where that came from, if you think you can handle it." Ariel looked up into his eyes, knowing what he was asking…challenging. While one hundred septims wasn't a lot for the job she'd done, it certainly was more than she would earn delivering letters across the hold for poor laborers, or dropping potion ingredients off. But could she deal with hurting innocent people, being the cause of their loss of hard-earned coin?

But what about the others? The ones who didn't necessarily deserve their coin. She'd come across plenty of those in her travels. Bandits, crooks, liars, misers who _inherited_ the money?

"Look, the coin is nice and all, but I'm not sure I could do this all the time." Ariel said, settling on a neutral answer. Brynjolf raised an eyebrow at her.

"Really? Well, I'll make this simple for you. The group I represent has its home in the Ratway beneath Riften, a tavern called the Ragged Flagon. When you make up your mind, come find me there and we'll talk about your future." With that, Brynjolf left Ariel leaning against the railing, her eyes on his back as he walked away. After a moment, she sighed, folding her arms across her chest. She'd only been in Riften for two full days. Two!  
_It seems you're destined for bad introductions._ Larena's words came back to her, and she snorted.

"So it seems…" she whispered, observing the oh-so-interesting planks of wood beneath her feet as she considered her options. Ariel knew she had to find more coin. If she didn't earn enough money in Riften, she'd be forced to return to common thievery anyway.

Brynjolf had told her there was no contract. She could refuse a job or leave anytime. Ariel pushed herself away from the railing. She'd make enough coin to support her travel to her next location, and then she'd leave. No ties, no jobs she'd regret. Just coin.

Content with her decision, Ariel moved to the Bee and Barb. Now that all the excitement was over, she could finally get some food.

* * *

1st of Sun's Height - 8:47 pm

* * *

"Well, color me impressed lass." Brynjolf stood from his seat as she walked over the small wooden platform. The sight of him set fire through her veins as she examined his small smile and soft eyes filled with surprise and respect.

She was _pissed._ So pissed, in fact, she didn't even notice his change of costume, or their company.  
The Ratway had been filled to the brim with maniacs, skeevers, spiders, and traps. Traps! Who on nirn set up traps in a sewer? She'd nearly had her head taken off by a mace that had been set up on the ceiling, even after careful avoiding the abundant skeever traps while trying not to be killed by a crazy man with a cooking knife. A _cooking knife._ For the first time in years, Ariel had wanted to kill a man. After knocking three others unconscious before him, she had been tired. She had to kill at least fifteen skeevers, along with several small but disgusting spiders. She thanked the divines multiple times that she had found the sharp, quick ebony dagger with a farther reach than her last. Otherwise, she'd be nursing a few nasty bites. As it was, her robe had a brand new rip in the fabric right round her hip.

And here Brynjolf stood, smiling like the sun shone brightly in this vile sewer.

"I wasn't certain I'd ever see you again." Ariel knew he could see her glare. She knew he could feel her anger. Didn't she deserve some form of warning that the sewer wasn't just a normal sewer?

"I'm tired, sweaty, smelly and pissed off. Skip the pleasantries, Brynjolf." Her response simply pulled an amused laugh from him, causing her to cross her arms as a means to avoid _slapping_ that _stupid grin_ from his _stupid Nord face!_

The Ragged Flagon was filthy. Four alcoves around the circular room were dirty and filled with spider webs and skeever droppings. The tavern area itself was relatively clean, but she had no idea how anyone could spend all their time in the place. It reeked. Behind Brynjolf, a rather large man with blond hair sat at the bar, a piece of half-eaten bread in his hand.

That couldn't be sanitary.

"Sit, lass." Brynjolf patted the seat next to him as he returned to his own. "I'm assuming you've come all this way to accept my offer?" Ariel sat, her eyes momentarily meeting the green orbs of the barkeep.

"I need the coin. So yes. But I won't do any more of what we did this morning."

"We refer to those jobs as shill jobs. You don't have to take those, if you don't like. There are plenty of others that will get you rich, just as quick. But first, I have a job that I need you to do."

"Oh, yeah? Again? I thought our market stunt would be enough to prove my skill." Brynjolf frowned at her, obviously displeased by her response.

Good.

"Consider this a part of your…initiation. I need you to handle a couple deadbeats for me. They owe our organization some serious coin, and they've decided not to pay it back. I want you to explain to them the error of their ways." Ariel sighed, shrugging her shoulders.

"Gods, what choice do I have?" Ariel muttered, pushing down the little voice in the back of her head that reminded her that she could leave instead. "Fine. Who are they?"

"Keerava, Bersi Honey-Hand, and Haelga. Do this right, and I can promise you a permanent place in our organization."

"Look, Brynjolf, you told me there are no contracts. I'm only in this for the coin, got it? Once I've earned enough, I'm leaving." Ariel stood from her seat.

"Wait, lass. There are a few particulars still left to discuss." Brynjolf remained silent until she returned to her seat, her annoyed gaze meeting his stern stare. "The debt is second here. We're just looking to get our message across; that we aren't to be ignored. A word of warning, though…I don't want any of them killed. Bad for business. Understand?" Ariel let out a single, sarcastic puff of laughter.

"No worries, I don't kill people." She said casually, once again pushing herself up from the stool. This time, Brynjolf didn't stop her. "I'll get your message across. I better get a cut!"


	9. Initiation

4E 201: 2nd of Sun's Height - 5:14 pm

"Good evening, friend! What can I interest you in today?" Ariel looked around the Pawned Prawn, her eyes scanning the shelves. It was only the other day that she was in here buying some cheap arrows and healing potions. It seemed Bersi remembered her, his smile warm and welcoming. She'd spent a nice bit of gold on those supplies, after all.

"Hello, Bersi. Is your wife out shopping?" The quiet Nord woman had only talked to Ariel once, but she was kind and didn't ask about Ariel's dress. In fact, most Nords didn't care about why she was covered from head to toe. They could tell she was mer, and that was all they cared to know.

"As usual," he replied, a lilt of laughter in his response. "She doesn't spend much, I'll give her that. But then again, we don't have much to spend anyway." Ariel gave a tight smile in response before drawing in a deep, steadying breath.

"Look Bersi, I'm here on business." She said, her eyes resting on possible items of value. There was the large deer head above the hearth that she could easily set on fire. A fine goat-horn chandelier provided extra lighting for the shop.

But there was one thing she found out of place, something she wouldn't expect to see all the way in Riften.

"Business? What sort of business? If you're looking to invest, I'd be happy to oblige!"

"Not quite." Ariel moved to lean on the counter opposite of Bersi, her eyes set on his. Now wasn't the time to second guess herself or her involvement with the guild. The only way she'd get what he owed was if she intimidated him. "I have a message." While intimidation wasn't the strong suite of any small elf when talking to a tall human man, being crafty was something she could do. "A message from your dear friend Brynjolf."

"Wha…what? Oh, it's one of you people." Bersi's kind expression immediately turned sour and unwelcoming. Ariel didn't flinch at the biting tone of his response, though she briefly mourned the loss of a possible ally. "So Brynjolf doesn't even bother to show up himself anymore, eh? What's this message?" Bersi had pushed away from the counter to cross his arms over his chest, a defensive snarl on his face.

"I think you already know what it is, Bersi." Ariel said smoothly, sweeping her hand across the counter to pick up a forgotten septim. She turned it over in the light as she continued casually. "You don't pay and…well," She tossed the septim away so that it landed at Bersi's feet before she raised an eyebrow at him. "Bad things happen."

"You're gouging me for what little coin I make, and you can't even protect yourselves? Ridiculous!" Ariel stared at him, processing what he had just said. Couldn't protect themselves? What mess did Brynjolf send her in to fix?

"Oh, we can protect ourselves. Trust me," she said, winking. It was difficult to get her message across, with most of her face covered. She relied heavily on body language and tone of voice. Brynjolf moved like a fox.  
Why couldn't she? Her faux confidence was not taken well, however. Bersie scowled darkly at her. 

"Don't fool yourself. It's only a matter of time before you people are run out of Riften!"

"Ah see, now that's where you're wrong. Maybe yesterday, that still would have been true. But today, I'm involved. Now pay up, Bersi." Ariel straightened, her eyes begging for him to challenge her.

"I have no coin for you and your dead guild. Get out of my shop." He growled, glaring firmly at her. Ariel smirked. Turning, she moved to the shelf behind her, gaze stopping on a large table-top urn. She recognized this artwork. It was the same sort she'd found when she, Larena, and Vilkas had made their trip to Markarth to kill some bear.

Oh, how she would enjoy destroying this.

"You know, this is a really nice urn you have here." She waited for a response as she lifted her hand, her gloved fingers tracing along the golden lip of the top. The body was mostly some sort of stone or clay, the top layer cracking. The golden metal seemed to be in near perfect shape. For now. When no response came, she picked up the urn, turning toward Bersi. His eyes were _glued_ to the object. "It would be quite a shame if something happened to it."

"Wait…what-!" Ariel suddenly dropped the urn, hearing a loud thud as it connected with the floor and the sound  
of cracking as more of the top layer fell off. "No! Please, I don't have any money to pay you with! Don't destroy my urn!" Ariel had picked it up again, examining it with slow deliberate movements, running her thinly-gloved hands over the surface.

"I'm sure you must have some gold stashed away?" She looked up and locked eyes with Bersi as she dropped the urn again, this time producing a glassy sound as the underlayer cracked.

"No! I don't! Please! That urn is priceless!" Ariel picked it up again, a grin on her face. Her heart was pounding with adrenaline as she watched his face contort with horror. She had so much power, over a silly urn.  
Well, this was actually quite _fun._

"Well, if you really don't have anything…" Ariel lifted the urn high above her head, slamming it down against the ground with more force than she knew she had. The urn smashed into pieces, the metal remaining untouched but the stone and clay shattering. Bersi let out a cry of despair at the loss of his prized urn, and Ariel felt herself glow with the power she held over him. "Oops. I broke it. Looks like I'll have to find something else-"

"No! No. I get it. I'll pay on time from now on. Just…just don't smash anything else." His voice was full of sadness and anger. "Here, take your gold and leave me in peace." Bersi reached under the counter and produced a few pouches of gold, throwing them onto the counter.

"Thank you so much." Ariel purred, grabbing the pouches before turning and leaving the store. Upon finding herself outside, Ariel let her smile drop.

What was all that? She had enjoyed that a little too much. The fear on the man's face, the power she held over him, the ability to break his spirit, even with something as simple as a Dwemer urn. That man had begged her, and she _liked_ it. Not only that, but she couldn't find the will to feel bad about it. She looked down at her hand, which clutched the three pouches tightly. She was doing this for coin to leave, not for enjoyment. This wasn't some fun vacation, for her. Riften was awful, its people were awful, and its system was awful. She wanted to leave. Perhaps it had been a way to alleviate her frustration, and she had simply become lost in the adrenaline. Yes, that had to be it.

"Ariel? Is that you?" Ariel looked up at the call, her gaze landing on a familiar Dunmer.

"Oh, Tythis!" She quickly plunged her hand into her pack, hoping he didn't see the pouches of coin. "Hello! How are you on this fine day?" Tythis raised an eyebrow at her, looking up at the cloudy sky.

"Fine day? It's about to rain!"

"It's not scorching hot. I'll take anything over that." Tythis laughed at her response.

"Ah, a cold lover, eh? If you weren't so short, I'd claim you to be a Nord, though perhaps you'd have an easier time with the heat if you weren't under all that clothing. Do you walk around like that all the time?" Tythis seemed to give her a once over as he examined her clothing.

"Ah, well, yes. I prefer to keep myself…"

"Hidden? I see that. But why?" Ariel felt her jaw drop slightly at his forward nature.

"I…well, I've had…quite the past. That's all you need to know." Ariel snapped, glaring at him. He was obviously surprised by her sudden defensive nature, and Ariel sighed. "Sorry, I…just don't like to talk about it. Besides, I've been feeling…strange, since entering this rathole of a city." She said venomously, waving her hand around in the air as if gesturing the hold.

"Perhaps you'd allow me to buy you a drink, then? To relieve some of your stress?" Ariel looked up at him, stunned.

What was it with her and Dunmer?

"Uhm, thanks…I…I'm sort of busy…" Ariel felt the familiar warm tingling of a blush rising to her cheeks, something she hadn't felt since her last moments with Athis.

"Oh…well, that's alright. Perhaps another time?" He didn't seem overly disappointed, but Ariel could see the slight change in his demeanor as he nodded to her and turned.

"Wait!" Ariel sucked in a breath, hoping he hadn't heard her. Was she out of her mind? Much to her chagrin, he turned slightly, looking at her with raised eyebrows.

Oh, great.

"How about…I meet you at the inn tonight? Is that okay?" _What in oblivion? No!_ Tythis smiled, hurriedly turning to face her completely.

"Sounds fine, but how about the bunkhouse? Haelga usually leaves around eight, and everyone else normally goes to bed pretty early. We could talk there." Oh, by the gods. What had she gotten herself into?

Wait…

"Okay. Where is this bunkhouse?" She could see a look of clarity coming over him, as if he remembered for the first time that she was, in fact, a traveler.

"Yes, I forget that you aren't familiar with the city. The bunkhouse is right near the main gate north out of the city. The one that leads to the stables." Ariel smirked. At least something good came from the conversation.

"Thank you, Tythis." She turned, trying not to walk away too eagerly.

"See you tonight!" She rolled her eyes, a low sigh leaving her. What in the name of the Daedra did she have to do to avoid male eyes? Or was it just her mysterious appearance? Perhaps she should invest in a manly set of armor for her stay in cities, or prance around covered in mud.

No, she wouldn't get any jobs if she looked like a psychotic beggar. Ariel sighed, looking across the bridges toward the large house next to the gate she had used to enter the city. There was no sign or any other indication that this was the place, other than the slightly propped-open door. Ariel pushed forward toward the building, eager to be done with the job.

Initiation. She was going to initiate her _foot_ up Brynjolf's _arse._

She assumed, as she pushed open the heavy door and took in the sight of the woman before her, that Haelga wasn't going to be any easier to work with then Bersi was. If she wanted to succeed, she'd have to tap into whatever energy she'd found at the Pawned Prawn. But first, she'd need to find her leverage.

The woman behind the counter hadn't given her more than a quick glance with a look of distaste before she looked back down at whatever book she had been reading. Ariel squinted as she slowly completed her entrance, the book title just barely visible under the woman's hand. She was reading Song of Hrormir, a book entirely unknown to Ariel. Quickly, she looked around the building before her, planning to take this woman's silence and run with it.

To her left was a small room set with chairs and tables, currently being cleaned by a young Nord woman who looked overworked and dirty. To her right sat a larger, more open area that led to a staircase and what looked to be an alcove. With a cursory glance at Haelga, or whom she assumed was Haelga, Ariel moved toward the other side of the large room until she was able to peek around the alcove.

"Can I help you?" She froze, her eyes falling on a large golden statue before she turned fully, meeting the glare of the woman behind the counter. "You don't belong here. If you're looking for a room, try the Bee and Barb." Ariel lifted an eyebrow, approaching the counter.

"What exactly is this place?" The woman crossed her arms over her chest.

"This heap of matchsticks is what people around here call Haelga's Bunkhouse. My bunkhouse. Can you stay here? No. This place is for the working man, not some sort of luxury inn for tourists!" Ah, so this _was_ the place.  
And, of course, this lovely woman was her target.

_Great._

"Well, good thing then, that I'm not looking for a room." Ariel said, switching into her casual state of mind. She sauntered over to the wall, leaning back against it and crossing her arms as a means of mocking the woman. Ariel took in the sight before her as she tensed, leaning forward on the counter and glaring intensely.

Ariel's eyes rested on the necklace that hung from her neck. A pretty reddish brown pendant with a clear purple stone on the end, likely representing a flower. Ariel smirked as she wondered if the woman would offer it as payment. Perhaps she could convince Brynjolf to let her keep it…it was pretty. It almost reminded her of her mother's necklace. An amulet of Auri-El, and possibly the only one in existence, now. Her mother had given it to her as a gift on her twentieth year of life. She had been amazed at the energy in the enchanted amulet, the sun-like pendant emitting warmth against her skin. Ariel had thought it held a piece of the very sun in its core.

Now that amulet sat in the chest at her house in Morrowind, along with her father's dagger.

"Well then get out! I don't have the time to deal with your nonsense."

"Look, this is really simple. I have a message from Brynjolf." Haelga rolled her eyes at Brynjolf's name, shaking her head in exasperation.

"What does he want now? I already explained to him that you can't get blood from a stone!"

"It's not just about the money, anymore." Ariel said, shrugging. Her easy attitude seemed to anger Haelga, but the woman leaned back and took a breath.

"Look, I can't make the coin appear out of thin air. Please be reasonable, I'll…I'll pay next month." Ariel stopped for a moment. Was that okay? Could she walk away with the knowledge that the woman would pay next month? Or is that the same thing she'd been saying to Brynjolf all this time?

Ariel pushed away from the wall, shaking her head. No, if it were something that could be pushed off, Brynjolf wouldn't have sent her to take care of it. This woman probably had no intention of keeping up with her payments…whatever they were about.

"We've run out of patience."

"And so have I. What's the point of paying anyway? Your outfit can't even fend for itself! I could do better tossing the gold into the sewer!" There it was, again. Someone else saying the guild couldn't handle itself. What was going on? "You can't scare me with your tough talk! I'm not paying you people a single coin."

"Oh, really?" Ariel felt her adrenaline kick up, energized by the woman's defiance. She moved around the wall into the alcove, her hands grasping the statue a little too tightly. She took a moment to observe what had seemed to be a giant blob of gold earlier. In fact, it was a statue of a naked woman, one that seemed vaguely familiar to Ariel. She couldn't quite place where she'd seen it before, or what it stood for, but she _did_ notice that the middle of the flower on the statue had the same stone as the necklace Haelga wore.

Ariel brought the relatively heavy statue around the corner, holding it up in clear view of Haelga.

There was that panicked stare, the same one Bersi had given her, but now with blue, delicately curved eyes.  
"Wait, what are you doing? Don't take that, it's the only thing of value I have left!" Ariel smirked. These people were too easy.

Then again, how would she feel if someone threatened to take something valuable away from her?

"So, should I…say…drop it down the well?"

"No! Please!" Haelga held up her hands in defeat. "Not Lady Dibella! I can't lose her!" Ariel looked down at the statue with interest. Lady Dibella? That's when it clicked. The temple in Markarth she'd heard about. The Temple of Dibella. An Aedra.

"Well, I suppose I could give this back to you, for the right price."

"I get the message." Ariel looked back up at Haelga, the defeat clear in her eyes as she reached under her counter. "Here, take your gold. I hope you choke on it." Ariel placed the statue on the counter, grabbing the large coin pouch from the counter and placing it into her pack with a satisfied grin.

"Nice doing business with you." Ariel removed herself from the bunkhouse, confident that she had just made a permanent enemy, and unable to care. That woman was far too abrasive, for her tastes. "One more, than I can be done," she muttered, her eyes moving upward. The sky had darkened dramatically, the clouds threatening to open at any moment and pour rain on the miserable city.

Good, she needed a shower.

With a smile, Ariel moved across the bridge to her temporary lodging, The Bee and Barb.  
Entering the inn, she was met mostly with silence. Marcurio still sat on the bench where she had first met him, his arms crossed over her chest and his head leaned back against the wall as he slept. There were two patrons, both seated at the same table and speaking in hushed tones over their salmon steaks and their cups of mead. Talen-Jei was sweeping, as he tended to do often. Unsurprising, as the city seemed to be covered in dirt and leaves. Ariel moved over to the bar, where Keerava stood writing in her ledger. Upon taking a seat, Ariel cleared her throat to gain the Argonian's attention.

What she didn't expect was the look of fear in her eyes.

"I should have known it was you!" Ariel tilted her head in question. So, Bersi was already telling people that the masked traveler was working with the guild. Just one more struggle to work around. "Look, everything was all just a misunderstanding. I didn't mean to tell Brynjolf to go jump off the pier." Ariel's eyes widened at the statement. She told him to jump off a pier? Ariel fought the urge to smile. She'd have to remember that one. "You'll tell him I'm sorry, yes? Here," Keerava pushed a coin pouch forward. "Every single coin I owe is there, I swear it."

"Keerava, I didn't come here to hurt you-"

"Just take it and go!" Ariel's eyes widened in response at the aggressive female, causing her to push off the barstool.

"Fine, fine." She put up both her hands in an unthreatening manner before taking the coin pouch. Her pack was beginning to feel much too heavy. She quickly removed herself from the inn, ducking around Talen-Jei, who obviously heard what went on, judging by his glare. She sighed in relief as the door shut behind her, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. This miserable job was over. She would go down to the Ragged Flagon, get paid, go to the lake to wash, and avoid Tythis' questioning for an hour.

Looking up, Ariel observed the fairly quiet market place as she began walking forward. The threat of rain had most customers inside for the day, leaving Grelka and Madesi to stand behind the stalls in boredom. Her eyes fell to Brand-Shei's empty stand, her heart dropping again as she wondered if Brand-Shei had anyone in Riften as company, or anyone who would visit him in prison.

Did Skyrim even allow visitors for their prisoners?

Ariel bit her lip in thought as she looked around, wondering how long she'd been standing idle and staring at the stall. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she moved forward with quick, long strides.

* * *

Brynjolf looked up at Ariel as she stopped in front of the small round table at which he sat. She dropped several pouches of coin down without care, her eyes on his as the pouches thudded heavily against the wood, the sound resonating through the sewer. A moment of silence passed as Brynjolf put down the letter he'd been reading, leaning forward to look through a few pouches. A smirk crept onto his lips as he looked back up at her, his movements slow and smooth.

"Well, the job's done and you even brought the gold. What I hear, you did it clean, too. I like that." She could see that he was impressed in the way he looked at her, one eyebrow slightly cocked as he looked her over. She, however, was not. How he'd heard of her methods was concerning, at the least. She didn't like being spied on. "Dumping bodies and keeping the guards quiet can get expensive."

"Yeah, whatever. It was easy. Now give me my cut." Ariel was certain she was no longer welcome in the Bee and Barb, and she certainly was not welcome at the bunkhouse when Haelga was present.  
Which meant Brynjolf damn well better have a place for her to sleep.

"Well done. Here's your payment." Brynjolf reached down to grab a small satchel on the floor. He had expected her to return quickly, then. "I think you'll find these quite useful." Ariel watched him with suspicious eyes as she took the satchel. Opening the top, she shifted her eyes to stare at two small vials of liquid. Looking back up, she nearly growled.

"Brynjolf, what is this? I'm here for coin, not useless potions." Unfazed by the venom in her tone, he sat back and propped his arm up on the back of the chair lazily.

"You could get quite a bit of gold for those two vials. Or, you could use them in a tight spot. It's up to you how you spend your payments." He pointed at the satchel in her hands as he continued, ignoring her glare. "The red vial is a Philter of Health. It'll give you a nice little adrenaline rush, useful for any heavy battles you find yourself stuck in. That bronze vial is what we call and Elixir of True Shot. It'll sharpen your focus and calm your nerves. Something we've found to be common with your type…archers." He gestured to the quiver of arrows on her back before letting his hand drop back to his lap. Ariel looked back down at the satchel before she took the vials and threw the empty bag back at him.

"Fine. Just point me in the direction of an alchemist so I can get on with my day," she mumbled, though her sharp articulation still spoke of her annoyance. She shoved the vials in her pack as Brynjolf chuckled, his laugh deep and resonant. It echoed around the circular room, bouncing back and forth and grating against her nerves.

"You've got quite a bit of fire in you, lass. Before you go off collecting gold, there's some business to take care of. After all, I promised you a permanent spot, didn't I?" Ariel didn't respond, but she stepped back as Brynjolf stood from his chair. "Judging by how you handled those shopkeepers, I'd say you've done more than simply prove yourself. We need people like you in our outfit."

"If you get me coin instead of potions and useless knickknacks, than I'm in."

"That's the spirit. Larceny's in your blood…the telltale sign of a practiced thief. I think you'll do more than just fit in around here." Brynjolf moved forward, but Ariel pushed a hand against his chest to stop him, her gaze hardening.

"Wait a minute. Before you get too comfortable with me, there's something we need to discuss." Ariel crossed her arms over her chest, giving Brynjolf a critical look.

"Oh? What's on your mind?"

"Word is your outfit isn't doing too well. Mind explaining that one?"

"I've already told you, or weren't you listening? We've run into a rough patch, lately. But it's nothing to be concerned about." Brynjolf seemed to consider her unwavering stare and tense stance. "Tell you what. You keep bringing in coin, and I'll worry about everything else. Fair enough?" Ariel stayed silent for a moment, considering his words.

"I choose my jobs, and I get coin as payment. And I'm free to leave when I want." Brynjolf smirked back at her, nodding in response. "Then it's fair enough."

"Now, if there are no more questions or…demands, your majesty, how about following me and I'll show you what we're all about?" Ariel felt her jaw drop as Brynjolf grinned widely. He hadn't really said…. "Come on, right this way." Without a moment of hesitation, Brynjolf moved passed her toward the only other door in the tavern; one she'd never been through. It took her only seconds to get over her shock, turning quickly to follow him with her lips pressed into a thin line.

He would pay for that.


	10. A Few More Days

4E 201: 2nd of Sun's Height - 9:52 pm

Ariel pushed open the door to the bunkhouse, having watched Haelga leave only moments ago. She felt clean, her hair still slightly wet from her dip in the lake. She had washed her robes, which were currently hanging from a tree just outside the city to dry, until they let go of that awful sewer smell. To any human, the smell was only faint. But to mer, the slightly increased sense of smell was a curse, here.

She had new clothes, now. Adding light armor in the form of thick leather patches, the Thieves Guild set fit her form nicely. A little too nicely, perhaps. It showed off her curves more than the robes had, but she couldn't complain. The top came with an attached belt with plenty of pouches and holsters. The belt around her waist had a larger pouch that almost matched her pack in capacity. Of course, she had four pockets on her pants as well. What she hadn't expected were the two small pockets on the outsides of her buckled boots. This armor was truly crafted for thieves. Her favorite attribute of the armor was that she could move silently with little to no effort at all.

Her provided gauntlets were open, revealing her white skin. Luckily for her, the heavy hood hid the points of her ears better than her cowl had. She could finally test that claim Anoriath had made when he had observed her. The lack of mask unnerved her, but she knew it was only a matter of time before she had to find a new way to hide. What better to hide in plain sight, then?

Perhaps Tythis would be able to tell her. After all, it was obvious that he knew something was strange about her. Likely, he'd called on her for more than just a drink and light conversation. If he really wasn't a traveler, he'd likely not be able to put two and two together. But what, then, would she say? He knew she was a mer. Was he willing to accept the impossible, as Athis had? Or would he deny it and brush off the truth? Or…had he not noticed the points on the side of her cowl?

No, that'd be much too convenient. Ariel sighed, wondering what she had done to deserve this stress. She had never needed to try so hard at keeping a promise. 

Haelga had taken longer to leave than expected. Ariel had waited nearly an hour for the angry young woman to make her way to the inn. She had seen patrons come and go, most grabbing food from the bunkhouse before going to the inn as well. It didn't take long to realize that Riften was the home to many people, and that she had barely scratched the surface.

Upon entering the bunkhouse, Ariel was met with the sight of a mostly empty dining room. Three people other than the maid occupied the space, sitting at their own tables in silence. Tythis caught her eye first, sitting at the small square table in the back. To the right sat Grelka, who seemed to be shoving food in her mouth in true warrior style. To the left, an Argonian female dressed in a dirty, loose dress that hung from her far-too-thin body. The Argonian stared down at her plate of food, taking small bites now and again as she seemed to be in deep thought. Ariel was surprised at the amount of Argonians in the city. There hadn't been a single one she'd crossed in her travels between Helgen, Riverwood, Whiterun and Ivarstead. She hadn't noticed any in Falkreath or Markarth, either. Ariel wondered if this was the only city to host them.

"Can I help you?" She looked up at the young Nord girl approaching her, having been lost in thought long enough to draw attention. Her heart sped for only a moment as the possibility of being recognized came forth in her mind. She forced herself to take a deep, calming breath, clearing her throat before responding.

"Uhm..Well, no, sorry. I'm only here to meet with a friend. Thank you." The girl spent only a moment longer observing her with unreadable eyes before she turned to leave. Ariel turned as well, about to approach Tythis.

"Wait." Freezing before she could even take a step, she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand straight. There was no mistaking it. That was recognition in that girl's voice. "You're the one who was here earlier, aren't you?" Ariel turned her head slightly, forgetting for a moment that the hood would block her vision.

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't play dumb. I recognize your voice." Ariel felt her heart hammering against her chest. Would this girl call the guards? Would she go to prison? She couldn't. Not only would she be revealed as a Snow Elf, but she'd have to stare at Brand-Shei in his cell for the duration of _his_ imprisonment.

Karma had her by the throat, and the fates were ready to plunge that knife deep…

"I have a favor to ask of you."

…Well, she certainly didn't see that coming. What sort of city was this? Ariel turned to see the girl, observing the pleading look the girl gave her. She looked tired, her face smudged with dirt and her eyes lined with deep dark circles. Ariel couldn't find any appropriate response. What sort of favor might this girl ask of someone she knew to be a thief? It definitely couldn't be good, that was for sure. Still…

"You work here, right? I saw you cleaning, earlier."

"Work? I suppose you could call it that. I call it slavery. I work my fingers to the bone keeping this disgusting place clean. Ever since my parents died and Haelga took me in, it's been a nightmare. How was I to know she was such a wretched woman?" Her voice had become a tad too loud for the quiet bunkhouse, causing the girl to stop and look around in slight embarrassment before continuing in a more hushed tone. "Now I'm stuck living here while those pigs she calls customers grope me and say the most awful things." Ariel felt the corners of her mouth twitch upward, despite the effort she was putting out to avoid laughing. Here she was, worried that this young girl would recognize her and turn her in, when it turned out that she hated Haelga and, likely, wanted to ruin her.

It seems the fates had yet to catch her.

"It sounds like your problem lies within the patrons, not Haelga."

"No, you don't understand. It's not just the work. It's everything about her. She's disgusting. I think she takes her worship of Dibella a little too seriously." Ariel raised an eyebrow, at that. She had little knowledge of many of the Aedra. Most of her teachings, as a child, had been to worship Auri-El without question, and even that was fairly vague. In fact, Ariel was quite confident that she knew more about the Daedric anticipations of The Tribunal than she did Auri-El and his fellow Aedric figures. "Do you know she's slept with three different men in the last month alone?" Ariel couldn't stop her jaw from dropping in response. _Three men?_ By the divines, she couldn't even find the good grace of the gods to sleep with one that she actually cared for. "What kind of woman would do such a thing?"

"A promiscuous one?" Ariel couldn't stop the slightly sarcastic response from leaving her lips. Immediately her eyes moved up to the girl, searching for disapproval or anger. Instead, it seemed as if the girl hadn't even heard her.

"Just for once, I'd like to see her squirm. To rub her nose in it." Her eyes found Ariel's, a silent question in them. Oh, of course she was pushing this off on her! Ariel, who hardly knew anything about this woman and her loose god, was left with the responsibility of finding a solution? Absolutely not!

"There must be a way." She responded, her eyes moving away in mock thought. There was no way she was going to get creative on this. She'd already done _that_ job.

"Actually, there is." And, of course, as expected, the girl already had a plan. Nords! "But I don't think I could get away with doing it."

"No, of course not.." Ariel muttered sarcastically. Luckily, and as intended, the girl did not hear her.

"She'd kill me, if she found out. You see, I happen to know that after she makes love, she gives her partner a token of her affection called a Mark of Dibella. If you confront her with three of the marks, She'd be so embarrassed….well, I don't know what she'd do!" The girl laughed, leaving Ariel to stare at her in silence. Three? Of these…marks? Why three? Why not one? Was the woman that dense?

"Well, uh, I'm very busy, you know…threatening merchants for coin and all that, you know how it is." Ariel mumbled, waving a hand dismissively.

"Oh, I know, I heard how you handled it earlier. That's why you're perfect for the job!"

"What? No, I-"

"I'll compensate you for the trouble, after all. Oh, this is going to be great!"

"Hold on…"

"You need to get the marks from Bolli, Hofgrir, and Indaryn. I'm not sure how you're going to do that, but I know you can handle it! Then just bring them back here, confront her with them, and the rest works itself out!" Ariel stood with her jaw slack, looking at the ecstatic girl in front of her. Didn't she pay any attention? With a sigh, she shook her head. Perhaps doing a favor for this girl would even out her actions from the past twenty-four hours. After all, the poor thing looked exhausted and desperate.

"Fine, ok. I'll get the marks."

"Oh, thank you! I look forward to it!" With that, she turned and continued her previous path, moving toward the solitary table by the staircase. Ariel rolled her eyes. How did she end up in this mess? Stupid Riften.

Turning, she failed to look before walking in her eagerness to move on, only to collide hard with something very solid. With a loud "oof!" of surprise, Ariel fell backwards and landed heavily on the wooden floor, her backside aching in punishment. A hand immediately shot up on its own initiative to hold her hood in place, despite the fact that the piece was fairly heavy and secured to her armor.

"Watch it!" Looking up, her eyes observed the vicious scowl of Grelka.

Well, she was that rude all the time, was she? Ariel returned the glare.

"Whatever. Sorry." She mumbled, pushing herself up as the woman moved passed her. She brushed the dirt off of her backside, unable to keep from mumbling about stupid Nords and their poor manners under her breath.

"You're a better person than I am. I wouldn't have apologized to her." Ariel looked up at Tythis, finding him looking at her with a raised eyebrow. She cleared her throat, pushing her embarrassment away.

"Yes, well I don't feel like getting in a fight tonight." Ariel wrapped her arms around her stomach, a habit she had developed as a child in extremely uncomfortable situations. "So…about that drink?"

* * *

"You know, you are beautiful." Ariel looked away from Tythis, her face feeling hot. The lights had dimmed an hour ago, most of the candles burned out for the night. Unfortunately, the one candle that illuminated her face still burned brightly at their table.

Ariel had been at the bunkhouse with Tythis for about two hours now, talking about Riften and collecting more information of the Thieves Guild. She had learned small things about the Dunmer as well, responding enthusiastically when he revealed he traveled from Mournhold and informing him of the state of the city and its rebuilt temple. Now, after two hours of lively conversation and four bottles of mead between the two, silence blanketed the room.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, of course."

"It's fine." Ariel said, waving a hand dismissively. While she was glad he hadn't asked her about her race, she was uncomfortable with the thought of another relationship. "I'm just not one for forming…bonds, of any sort." Ariel spoke quickly, eager to move away from the conversation. She had promised herself that she would not have ties in the city.

Though, it seemed, keeping that promise to herself was becoming difficult.

"A true traveler, then." She could hear the slight disappointment in his voice, but he smiled at her nonetheless.

"It's just the way it is. Eventually, I'll leave Skyrim and return to Morrowind. As it is, I don't plan on staying in Riften for too long." Tythis watched her as she took another deep drink from her bottle of mead, tipping her head back slightly to finish off the liquid.

"I don't blame you. Riften is horrible…I'm beginning to think leaving Mournhold was a mistake." His tone was slightly bitter as he leaned back, his eyes on hers. Ariel shifted uncomfortably for the fourth time that night. She had noticed him observing her features with curiosity. "You're incredibly pale." He commented, finally, and Ariel had to keep herself from rolling her eyes. It only took two hours to get here. Another hour and she could have possibly avoided it altogether. Goldenglow Estate called her name, and she knew she needed to get the job over with before morning.

"Yeah, I don't often bask in sunlight." Ariel paused at her own statement. In all honesty, she couldn't remember the last time she'd enjoyed the sun on her skin. Anytime she'd ever gone without a hood or sleeved shirt, she'd been under the cloak of night or shade. She could remember when the sun used to warm her skin in the snowy mountains as a young elf, hunting or relaxing with her kin to pass time. All other moments had been brief and uncomfortable, leaving her no time to notice the slight warm caress of the rays that others so often forgot to enjoy. She missed the gentle burning of the sun in the morning.

"I can tell," Tythis responded, smirking. "A few of my brothers seem to have come up with more interesting theories, though." Ariel looked up at him with wide, questioning eyes.

"Such as?"

"Well, Ungrien seems convinced that you're a vampire," he started, crossing his arms over his chest in thought. She smiled at the reminder of Anoriath's confession.

"Ungrien?"

"Haven't taken a trip to the meadery, have you? He's the Wood Elf running the tasting counter. Indaryn usually sends him on errands early in the morning before opening the counter." Ariel perked up slightly, having been slouching in her relaxed state.

"Indaryn? Who is that?" She pushed the excitement out of her voice, happy that she'd get information on one of Svana's targets. This conversation had turned from simply pleasant to conveniently useful.

"Dark Elf. Runs the meadery for Maven Black-Briar." Ariel nodded slowly. It seemed as if a trip to the meadery was certainly in order. "Valindor, the Wood Elf who works for Bolli at the fishery? He seemed to notice you as well, which is a difficult feat. He tends to keep to himself." Ariel hummed in response. Bolli. That's her second target. Had Tythis heard Svana, earlier? Likely not. He probably wouldn't be giving her the information so easily.  
"And then there's Brand-Shei…" Ariel blinked, her attention caught once more.

"What did he say?" Tythis waved his hand in the air in a dismissive fashion.

"Some ridiculous theory about Snow Elves." Ariel stared at Tythis as he laughed, shaking his head. She forced a small smile on her face, though it took a lot of effort. She had been right. He knew, and only after seeing her for seconds as she passed. Perhaps Brynjolf had unknowingly caused the theory, with his Falmer Blood Elixir. After all, Brand-Shei _did_ know Falmer and Snow Elves were once the same. "But that does raise an interesting question." Ariel stared at him expectantly. She knew what he was about to ask. "What _is_ your race?" Ariel let the smile drop, her mind working fast. Anoriath better know what he's talking about…

"I'm a Breton. I was born in Blacklight," she said slowly, the lie forming as she spoke. "Like I said, I've never exactly been friends with the sun. I grew up as a warrior, but I favored stealth. I was always covered." She watched in anticipation as Tythis seemed to observe her closely, as if looking for the very word 'liar' to be written on her face. Instead of scoffing or accusing her of dishonesty, he smiled.

"Well, that explains your elven features. You certainly are the most beautiful Breton I've met." Ariel let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding, smiling widely. She'd have to send Anoriath some sort of token of her immense appreciation.

"Thank you." Suddenly, she felt better, her muscles relaxing. She hadn't realized how tense she'd been since Tythis had asked her for a drink earlier in the day. Still smiling softly, Ariel turned to look out the window behind her. Masser was completely out of view, Secunda not far behind.

"Well, it seems my time here has run out. I've got an errand to complete," Ariel said, pushing back her chair. As she stood, he did too, looking confused.

"What errand could you possibly have now? It's nearly ten!" Ariel kept her eyes off of his, fiddling with the pockets on her armor.

"Well, you know, I've got to…uhm-"

"Listen, you're not fooling anyone. The Thieves Guild is well known, here." Ariel looked up at him, jaw slack and eyes wide.

"You…"

"You're not one of them, Ariel." The way he said her name made shame rush through her. "I can tell." Ariel observed his kind expression, heat running through her blood from annoyance. Did he think he was saving her?

"Is that why you've asked me to come here?" She asked, her eyes planted firmly on his, telling of her distrust.

"No! I asked you to come here because I wanted to _know_ you. You're a mystery, here. Most travelers who come to Riften only pass through, with attitudes to match the people who live here," he said bitterly, looking back at Ariel. "But not you. It's...refreshing." She cocked an eyebrow at him, unsure of how to respond and uncomfortable with how close he suddenly was. Ariel's eyes widened slightly as he leaned even closer to her. He reached out slowly, hesitantly, intent to lay his hand on her face or to push back her hood, she was unsure. For a moment, she was frozen with shock, unable to stop him or to move.

Until the door opened.

Ariel and Tythis turned their gazes to the main room, watching as Haelga entered, dragging a piece of clothing in behind her. Without sparing a moment, Ariel moved to the wall, pressing herself up close against it. There was a soft sigh before silence. Tythis observed Ariel for a moment before looking over at Haelga, who cleared her throat.

"Tythis…what has you up so late?" Ariel could hear the slur in the woman's words and the uneven gait of a drunken woman as she approached the doorway. She stiffened, waiting for Haelga to enter the room and see her, or for Tythis to point her out. But he didn't. Instead, he looked around with disinterest, sighing.

"Just thinking about my plans to leave this wretched city. I'm about to go to sleep. I think you should too." He said firmly, obviously quite used to her current state. Haelga giggled, a sound Ariel didn't think possible of the woman, before she stumbled into the room, headed straight for the Dunmer.

Her apron. Halega was dragging her apron. Her underclothes were in an awful state, as well. It was as if she had just thrown them on seconds ago, not bothering to straighten them or button them all the way. Just being in the same room with the Nord woman, Ariel could smell the mead and sweat from her, and faint scents of…

Ariel nearly vomited. That was the unmistakable scent of sex that had wafted in the air with the woman.

"Come on, Tythis. My bed is far too big for me to sleep alone, tonight." Tythis crossed his arms over his chest, a sign that he was not open to her affections. Ariel slowly inched toward the doorway, turning to give Tythis an apologetic look before quickly moving toward the exit. Before she opened the door and left, she heard the  
Dunmer's exasperated response.

"Yes, and mine is too small. Perhaps we can trade."

* * *

3rd of Sun's Height - 4:55 am

* * *

"This is stupid," Ariel muttered to herself, waiting for the secret entrance in the graveyard to slide open. She had no idea how it was still secret. The stone sliding against stone was probably the loudest sound she'd ever heard in her life.

Next to Dragons roaring, of course.

Ariel had made it through Goldenglow Estate with only four almost-heart attacks, seven broken lockpicks, a singed gauntlet and a fine slice on her cheek from diving into the lake in escape and catching a sharp rock. The estate had been crawling with mercenaries, some with bows and others with sword. She'd seen a couple larger men with greatswords strapped to their backs in addition to a normal sword at their hip.

Now, she was left dripping wet and mumbling to herself as the sun approached the horizon. She walked down the stone steps under the fake grave, pulling the chain at the bottom and waiting for it to close before she approached the sewer entrance. She could already smell the foul place.

Her hip was heavy with coin, which jingled slightly when she moved. Whoever Aringoth was, he had kept an enormous amount of coin in his safe in the basement. Of course, Ariel had to knock out two mercenaries inside the house in order to get to the basement. The long hilt of her new dagger made the job easier for her. Despite the intense fear and frustration she had felt for most of the job, it had been strangely….fun. Stealth missions suited her well, particularly at night or in heavily shadowed places. She always felt at home testing her abilities to remain unseen and silent. Still, she was tempted to walk away from the guild with the coin she'd found. She'd mail them the letter later, perhaps.

Ariel climbed down the ladder, deciding against crossing a group of thieves. Who knew if they would come after her? Less enemies was always better than more, right? Besides, a group of thieves could end up being important allies.

Ariel jumped down from the ladder halfway to the ground, landing lightly at the bottom. Turning, she scanned the cistern for a familiar head of red-brown hair. Instead, she found her least favorite Breton. Mercer Frey had looked up upon her entrance, straightening and crossing his arms over his chest expectantly.

Mercer hadn't taken well to her sarcasm, upon her entrance. His strong, cocky attitude hadn't sat well with her, either. Something about him was…off. She'd never been so put-off in her life by one man. He obviously felt like he owned the guild, which in his mind meant he now owned her. He was sorely mistaken.

Ariel moved toward the guild master, locking her challenging eyes with his dark, arrogant gaze. She smirked, feeling a thrill run up her spine at the thought that she had completed the job his so-called best infiltrator couldn't. But she was stopped, a hand wrapping around her wrist. She whipped around to face the person who touched her, ready to fight…

To find her oh-so-favorite red-haired fox.

"Word on the street," He began, letting go of her as she turned to face him. "is that Goldenglow's been hit." Whereas his expression was serious before, now a smile had found its way onto his lips, sly and proud as ever.  
"Good job, lass." Ariel looked over her shoulder at Mercer to find that he had leaned back down over the table, as if their silent exchange hadn't taken place.

"Yeah," she turned back, reaching for the pouch at her hip. "here's what was in the safe. Just a bunch of coin and this letter." She handed all of it to Brynjolf, who looked at the letter with interest. He wasted no time opening the paper, his eyes moving quickly as he skimmed.

Ariel had to hand it to him. He was a sly man who was perhaps a bit too arrogant, but business was business. She could see in him little hints of responsibility and leadership that two days ago she'd never thought he possessed. There was no joking, no honeyed words, just focus as he read the letter over again. A thief was a thief, but this guild was becoming more than a group of misfits.

"Aringoth sold Goldenglow? What's that idiot thinking? He has no idea the extent of Maven's fury when she's been cut out of a deal, but I'm certain he'll find out." Ariel remained silent as he skimmed the paper once again.  
"If only the parchment had the buyer's name instead of this odd symbol. Any idea what that might be?" Ariel moved to stand beside Brynjolf, looking at the symbol. It was a small dagger surrounded by a black circle. To Ariel, it didn't seem odd at all. She'd come across many letters in her life with similar little symbols at the top. Usually, in her experience, they were decorative or meaningless. But, then again, she'd never had to use a symbol as a trace.

"No idea. Know anyone who favors daggers? Maybe that'll narrow down your suspects to a thousand." She shrugged, looking up at him. He shook his head, entirely focused on it. Business was business. She'd have to remember that.

"I'll check my sources and speak to Mercer." He pushed forward to walk away from her, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Brynjolf, aren’t you forgetting about something?" He turned to her, a wide smile on his lips as he dug into the pouch at his side.

"Ah, of course! Your pay. You're smart as a whip, lass." He laughed, placing a few pouches of coins in the hand she held out expectantly. "Keep doing right by us and there's plenty more where that came from." Ariel looked at the pouches in her hand, the weight and size surprising. She had nearly dropped them.

"How much…?"

"Seven hundred." Ariel's jaw dropped, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at him.

"Seven…hundred?" she whispered, her eyes wide. Brynjolf laughed at her shock, thoroughly entertained.

"Ah, you remind me of Saphire when she earned her first large payment. Seven hundred, clean." Ariel looked back down at her hand, her heart beating fast. She'd made more on one overnight job then she had doing several jobs for the Companions.

She could leave now and never look back…or she could earn more coin and be set for a very long time…  
Ariel looked up at Brynjolf's expression. He smiled, as if proud of her hard work, amused by her excitement.  
Seven hundred septims…

"I think you need to lay down, lass, before you faint." He joked, his voice shaking with laughter. Ariel simply nodded, allowing him to place one hand on her back and lead her over to her bed. Her bow, arrows and sword still waited for her on her mattress. Exhaustion hit her like a ton of bricks at the sight of the pillow, and for the first time in days, the smell of the sewer was the last thing on her mind as she cleared her mattress and collapsed on the bed, her thoughts quickly melting away as she watched Brynjolf approach the guild master.

A few more days…that's all.


	11. Maven Black-Briar

4E 201: 3rd of Sun's Height - 11:45 pm

Four days, she counted. Four days that Brand-Shei's stall had been closed. She'd been in Riften for six days.  
Brynjolf kept his word.

Ariel watched from the graveyard. From her position, she could see through the pillars of the balconies and just through the stone entrance of the temple. She watched the Dunmer look over his wares, checking everything to make sure nothing had been stolen. It was late. He was alone. It was perfect. And yet..

Ariel tried. She tried so hard. Yet she couldn't take a step closer.

What would she say? What could she say? She couldn't apologize to him for sending him to prison, then turn around and ask him to keep her secret safe. But maybe…maybe she could use the information as incentive? After all, his theory was just a theory. Perhaps some confirmation of his sanity would be worth keeping her secret. After all, he didn't know she was the one who planted the ring. How could he even be sure the guild was involved?

Ariel sighed, slapping her hand against her face. She was tired. She spent the last few days doing small jobs for the guild and getting to know her new 'family.' After speaking with a few members of the guild, she'd found that they weren't all so bad. It was a business, a family, and everyone watched each other's back. In a way, it reminded her of the Companions. While jobs here were mostly solo work, she found that there was an equal amount of support and protection, here. She would never have expected that from thieves. It was hard enough to find in the common folk.

She slid her hand down her face, as if wiping away the stress. She just needed to walk up and initiate conversation. The rest would take care of itself. With a calming breath, Ariel moved forward, her eyes glued on his back as he set up his stall for the next day.

Ariel could breathe, after this. She could let go of the tension she'd held onto since talking to Tythis, whom she hadn't spoken with since. In fact, she'd found herself avoiding the Dunmer. Despite the twinge of guilt she felt, the intimacy he'd been about to employ was too much.

Her heart still ached for her little memories of Whiterun. Something was still connecting her to the city, making it hard to close that chapter completely. It was as if a major part hadn't yet been written, leaving her unsatisfied and unable to move forward.

As Ariel crossed the entrance of the temple toward the market circle, she shifted her thoughts to her current tasks. She still had to get the Marks of Dibella from Bolli and Indaryn. Hofgrir had given it to her with little protest when she had arrived to help Shadr with his debt from Sapphire. She couldn't understand what the purpose of the marks were. They were simply intricate-cut sapphire stones. Either way, she'd have to complete that favor before she could move on to her next job.

Maven Black-Briar. She had a meeting with the woman tomorrow afternoon. Brynjolf had to explain the extreme necessity of Ariel's cooperation. After all the things she had heard about Maven, she didn't want to work for the evil, corrupting woman, and had made that quite obvious.

Ariel stopped moving, now only several feet away from the Dunmer. He had yet to notice her, his back still turned to her as he rifled through one of the crates of merchandise. How did she get his attention? Would he be suspicious of her? Attack her? Ariel rolled her eyes. Just talk!

"Hello, Brand-Shei." Ariel watched as he momentarily stiffened before turning, his eyes sweeping over her quickly. She was sure he was unable to see her face from the current angle. The few city torches were only around buildings, and behind her was the light of the forge. Her hood shadowed her face with the light of the moons, leaving him no way to identify her.

"Do I know you?" He asked, his Dunmer accent heavy in the silence that surrounded them. He was looking at her with obvious distrust.

She'd heard from the guards few times that Riften was not safe for a nighttime stroll. Citizens who weren't affiliated with the guild weren't perfect, clean individuals. People would get mugged in the streets, beaten and forgotten, killed and dumped in the lake. The citizens of this city were worse than the guild could ever hope to be. At least they never killed, and tried to avoid hurting anyone.

"Not personally, no." Ariel had learned how to be polite, even in the oppressive heat that had caused days of irritation. Just like in Morrowind and Cyrodiil, she had adapted slowly. She was uncomfortable, but she had learned to quiet her bitter thoughts and return to her calm temperament.  
Snow Elves were not made for this environment.  
"But I know you've noticed me." His suspicious look hadn't changed, and he remained silent as he waited for her to continue. She could tell his entire body was tense, ready to fight or run. She sighed softly, bringing her hands up to the sides of her hood. They were shaking.

Slowly she pushed the hood back, her eyes closed as she attempted to push down her nervous energy.

"By the eight…"Ariel opened her eyes, surprised more that he had spoken of the eight then the Tribunal. "I was right!" Ariel watched as he dropped a few items from his hand to his stall before walking forward slightly. "A Snow Elf!"

"Hush!" She reprimanded, looking around. She pulled the hood back over her head, moving her eyes back to him. "Tythis told me. Understand, this isn't something to be advertised. I don't want anyone to know about this. As far as everyone else is concerned, I'm a Breton." Brand-Shei squinted, as if still observing her features through the shadows. She had to fight off the urge to snap at him. This is what she was, in this world. A spectacle. Those lucky enough to know what she was would treat her like a statue, something to be observed and forgotten. How long before her promise was broken? At this rate, everyone would know what she was.

But she could use it to her advantage.

"How is this even possible? I thought all the Snow Elves were killed or turned into Falmer."

"Some of us hid. What will it take to keep your mouth shut about it?" Brand-Shei raised an eyebrow at her.

"I don't intend to spread your identity over Skyrim. Your secrecy is none of my concern." Ariel stared at him in shock for a moment before sighing.

"Oh. I…didn't expect you to be so kind," Ariel admitted softly, guilt stabbing at her heart. She bit her lip to keep from admitting her crime to him, choosing instead to ask the questions that had been surfacing since she had helped Brynjolf. "Brand-Shei, may I ask you something?"

"Of course." Ariel took a deep steadying breath as she lifted herself up to sit on the stone wall, praying to the divines that he would be able to help her.

"What do you know of my people?" Silence blanketed them for a moment, and she was sure he was carefully considering his words.

"Not very much. I came across Falmer in my travels, and naturally became curious as to what they really were. Most of what I know comes from books and other travelers."

"What books?" Ariel had leaned forward on her perch, excitement lining her tone. But her enthusiasm was not met.

"I don't remember…Most of them were just musings of other travelers, quoted in text. There was one book…it had quite a bit of information on them, from a researcher. She made some historical references to your kind and to Ysgramor's notes." Ariel felt her excitement melt away. One book? Likely, she'd never find it. Knowing her luck, there'd only be one copy of the book in all of Tamriel. It was probably floating at the bottom of some lake, or ripped apart by a bear in a cave.

"Oh. Well, thank you." Ariel tried to brush away the sadness that had enveloped her. She thought she had been a step closer to finding out about her kind. After all, if she knew more about her history, perhaps she could find others like her, hiding away in ruins of ancient elven cities.  
What a fairytale that all was.

"Perhaps I could point you in a more helpful direction?" Ariel moved her eyes back up to him, an eyebrow cocked in question. "I hear the College of Winterhold has quite the extensive library available to their apprentices. If you ask for help from them, they may allow you access." Ariel snorted, shaking her head. The College of Winterhold. Mages?

"They'd never let me near the place. I'm not the greatest at magic. Those mage robes of mine were mostly for comfort, over anything. I doubt they'd even let me _think_ the word 'book' around them." She laughed sarcastically, a bitter undertone ringing clear.

"If there is one thing I've learned in all my years, it's that everything is worth a try. The only thing that can stop your progress is yourself." Ariel stared at the outlines of his eyes, wondering if he was hiding a sarcastic smile under the shadows or if he was being serious.

Whether or not he was being sarcastic, it had instilled some hope. At least now she knew where to go next, after leaving Riften.

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."

"There is something you could do for me, traveler. In exchange for honoring your secrecy." Brand-Shei leaned against his stall, his eyes serious.

"What is it?"

"In your travels, keep a lookout for any information on a ship named 'The Pride of Tel Vos.'" Ariel raised an eyebrow.

"May I ask why?"

"Well, you've probably figured out Brand-Shei isn't exactly a Dunmer name."

It didn't take as long as she had anticipated for Brand-Shei to tell his story of his life with his adoptive Argonian parents, as well as his quest to find his identity. It was a story that left Ariel feeling bad for the Dunmer, her heart aching in her chest. Sure, she had been left to wander on her own for years, wondering about her people and wandering without purpose.  
But at least she knew her parents and what happened to them. It was no great mystery that kept her up at night. Rather, a nightmare. But something known.

"Of course, Brand-Shei. I'll look for clues in my travels so long as you keep my secret safe." Brand-Shei smiled at her, a real smile that was full of gratitude and fragile hope.

"Thank you." Brand-Shei turned to move away, most likely to the bunkhouse. She could see the exhaustion on his face during their conversation. She could imagine that the jail beds weren't all that comfortable.  
There was that guilt again.

"Brand-Shei?" He turned, and she imagined the questioning look in his gaze. After all, from this angle, she could only see shadows. "My name is Ariel." She said softly, as if her name was a secret as well. After a moment, Brand-Shei nodded.

"Thank you, Ariel."

* * *

4th of Sun's Height - 10:25 am

* * *

He reminded her of Larena.

Everything he did was done with enthusiasm. Even though it was painfully fake, and he was obviously exhausted, he moved with energy that Ariel certainly had never been able to tap into.

Ariel had pushed open the doors to the meadery minutes ago to reveal a poor, overworked Bosmer. She had seen him just that morning, like Tythis had said, running around to retrieve some items from the shops as they opened and delivering a few cases of mead. In fact, he had been running around from nine to ten am, where she had spent most of her time browsing the market stands. She had spent quite a bit of time at Brand-Shei's stand, discussing some of her travels through Morrowind. She had spent a nice bit of gold at his stall, partly to help him catch up on any he had lost after several days in jail. Two books, a peculiar stone with a red glow, and a few potions later, Ariel had spent nearly two hundred septims. But she couldn't resist Sujamma. And that was before he allowed her to taste what he called 'Sadri's Sujamma.' She had shivered as the brew slid down her throat, nostalgia washing over her. Her normally empty pack was now full of Sadri's Sujamma and potions. The Heart Stone, as Brand-Shei had called it, was tucked away in the upper pocket of her armor. Finally, she had shoved the two books into the pouch at her side. They would provide some entertainment in her future travels.

"Good morning!" He greeted. Ariel quickly moved to sit on one of the stools around the counter, sighing lightly as she did so. "Allow me to recommend the Black-Briar mead…the purest brew in all of Skyrim!" She looked up at him, her eyes meeting what had to be the fakest smile she'd ever seen. But she could see it; apprehension in his eyes. Tythis wasn't lying, then. She smirked slightly. His fear was amusing, in a way.

"A vampire, huh?" She said, her voice shaking with amusement. A surprised look came over his face, a flash of fear, then curiosity.

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, milady." Ariel laughed at him, a soft chuckle as she shook her head.

"Drop it. Tythis told me you were convinced I'm a vampire. I get it, but I hate vampires. I promise you, I'm just a normal Breton who hasn't had any sun in a long time." She said, waving her hand in the air. "I don't have glowing eyes or pointy fangs, I promise." Ariel held up a hand as if swearing on her soul, smiling at him.

She could feel his relief. His form practically melted In front of her for a moment.

Did he really think she'd come in to make him a meal?

"Oh, well…Great! In that case, can I interest you in some Black-Briar Mead?" Well, he certainly didn't shut off, did he? Ariel, still struggling with her amused smile, nodded.

"Sure. I'll take some reserve." She fished around in her coin pouch, for once not worrying about the price of the superior mead. She had plenty of coin.

"Right away!" The Bosmer turned around, walking through a door behind the counter momentarily before he quickly returned. The blue bottle he placed on the counter in front of her was sweating, and she wondered what methods they used to keep their bottles cold. Perhaps they had access to some magical snow, as well? "Here you go, the best mead in Tamriel!" Ariel slapped a few septims on the counter, which he gracefully swept into his own coin pouch. She quickly pulled the cork from the bottle and took a large swig of the drink, savoring the taste. As far as mead went, it was the best she'd ever had.

"Is there anything else I can get you, milady?" Ariel looked back up at him, fake smile still plastered on his face, despite the exhaustion in his eyes. She raised an eyebrow at him before the corners of her mouth twitched upwards. "We serve only the best!"

"Oh? What makes Black-Briar mead 'the best?'"

"Lady Maven's been developing the secret recipe for Black-Briar mead over the last several decades!" He responded quickly, his voice filled with excitement. "She uses a very secret blend of spices, fresh honey from Goldenglow Estate, and specially constructed aging casks to ensure the best flavor. Even when you get to the last sip in your Flagon, it'll taste just as good as the first!" Ariel couldn't hide the smile, and she cleared her throat to avoid laughing. This was too good.

"First, I have a bottle, see?" She picked it up, shaking it gently to punctuate her point. "Not a flagon. And, second, that was far too rehearsed." The smile faded slowly from his face before he sighed, leaning on the counter.

"Damn it," He said, his voice low and lacking all enthusiasm. The sudden change was almost surprising. "Sorry. I'm not very good at this." He shook his head. "Look, just don't say anything to Maven, will you?" he looked up at her with fearful, pleading eyes, causing Ariel to straighten in her seat. Fun time was over, apparently. "I've spent weeks trying to get that right, and if she sees how stupid I am, she'll get rid of me!" Ariel looked at the mer with slight amusement.

"There are worse things than being fired."

"Yeah…fired. Sure. That's what I meant." Ariel's smile fell now as she observed him and the emotions in his eyes.

"What can you tell me about Maven?" He stared at her for a moment, as if entertaining an inner debate, before turning to look over his shoulder at the closed door.

"She's an absolute pleasure to work for!" He smiled, as if trying to trick her that it was the truth. He spoke loudly, and Ariel wondered if he had heard footsteps. "In fact, I almost feel guilty accepting pay from her. Why, just this last week I was commenting to my fellow meadery workers just how lucky we are to be working for such a charitable family." She stared at him for a few moments, getting the message across that she did not believe his bull. After a moment, the smile dropped again, and he sighed.

"Come on. Get the truth off your chest."

"Okay, look," he began, his voice quiet and nervous as he looked behind him once more. "If I'm caught saying anything bad about the meadery or the family, I'm a dead man. I'm the fourth person to work the tasting counter in the last year. The last three are at the bottom of Lake Honrich!" He shook his head, removing his gaze from hers. "Just take my advice, and just get out of Riften as soon as you can."

"Maven has her workers killed? Why would you work here if your life was in danger?"

"We all need money, right? I wouldn't have taken this job if I knew I'd be stuck here, constantly looking over my shoulder!" She understood, now, why he looked so tired. She gave him a sympathetic look, pushing the bottle of mead toward him.

"Sounds like you need this more than I do. Maybe I can help you."

"Help me? Why would you do that? You don't even know me." He asked suspiciously, crossing his arms over his chest. "Besides, what could you possibly do to help me?" Ariel smirked.

"Well, I know your name is Ungrien, and now I know you're afraid Maven will have you killed. You seem nice enough, which is good enough for me," she said, shrugging. In truth, Ariel felt bad for the Bosmer. The desperate look he was giving her was enough to break her heart. The elf in front of her seemed to relax as she spoke, his exhaustion becoming more and more evident. She could tell he wanted to accept her offer. "Besides, I have a meeting with Maven today. If I get on her good side, maybe I can talk her into removing the knife from your throat, so to speak." She locked eyes with him as she took another sip from the blue bottle. His eyes had widened slightly.

"You...you work for Maven?"

"I'm not going to tell her what you really think about her or the meadery." She said, waving away his anxiety.  
"Honestly, I don't want to work with her at all. But it's essential to my…ability to make a living…sort of." Her confident tone had dwindled to a quiet mumbling at the end, tracing the outside of the bottle with an index finger. "I'm not interested in Riften's politics."

"What's the catch?" Ariel snorted in amusement, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you ask that when you took this job?" His face dropped, his suspicious stare replaced by resignation as he shook his head. That response had not been called for. Riften was really affecting her. No, Brynjolf was affecting her. He and Mercer had drawn out every drop of sarcasm and wit she possessed in her body. At first, it had been nice being able to engage in friendly banter whenever she pleased. But now, it was bleeding into her daily conversations. "There is no catch. I don't like the sound of this woman, and I'm not a fan of…her methods. If my job for her goes well, I'm sure it won't be difficult to arrange for your safety." She shrugged, bringing the bottle to her lips and taking several large gulps. She let out a sigh of contentment as she stood, stretching. 

"Now, I need to speak to Indaryn and Bolli. Any idea where I can find them?"

* * *

Ariel smiled as she pushed open the door of the fishery to feel a cool breeze off of the water. Indaryn had been easier to persuade than she had anticipated, far too worried about his reputation at the meadery than keeping the useless stone. Bolli had instantly given her the stone as well, leaving her with just one task before her meeting with Maven Black-Briar.

Confronting Haelga.

Ariel moved to turn the corner, her smile still on her lips as she moved passed the building, until she felt something collide with her side and send her to ground. She landed painfully on the wooden walkway, groaning as her head collided with the wood and pain resonated throughout her body. She sat up, holding her head as her vision swam.

"Oh! I apologize! I should have been more careful!" Ariel jumped as someone kneeled down suddenly in front of her. It was another Wood Elf, one she had yet to meet. She rubbed her head through her hood, feeling the tender spot and wincing.

"It's fine."

"Are you alright?" Ariel nodded, finally removing her hand from her head and taking a better look at the elf before her. She recognized him from when she had first entered the fishery, talking to Bolli about fixing some netting before she had interrupted them. She could see the recognition in his eyes as he observed her as well, taking in her pale complexion and blue eyes. After a moment, he stood, a hand held out to her that she gratefully accepted. "I truly am sorry," he repeated, looking over her with concern. "My head wasn't in the present."

"It's fine, really," she repeated, brushing her armor off. That fall would have shredded her robes. The armor was, thankfully, untouched. "Thank you for helping me up." She turned to continue in her previous path in hopes to deter conversation, but an eager voice called from behind her.

"I am Valindor." His tone left little question that he wanted to know her name in return for his. Ariel turned slightly, observing his stare. It was the same look Anoriath had given her when he'd asked her to show herself to him.

"Ariel." She said slowly, communicating her distrust. If what Tythis said was true, and he tended to keep to himself, than it was likely no one knew much about this elf. That could mean two things. Either he was truly a quiet, reserved mer, or he had something to hide. She didn't have the time to wonder.

"I've seen you wandering around the city. Are you a property owner?" Ariel saw a look in his eye that made the hair of the back of her neck stand up. He was fishing for information, and covering his tracks all at once. A clever one.

"I'm a traveler. So, no. This city is not where one starts a life, anyway," she mumbled, shaking her head. "Forgive me, I'm in the middle of something important." Valindor's analytical stare had not wavered. In fact, it had grown far more intense. Had she just given something away? What was he searching for? She had a feeling this Bosmer was far more perceptive than the others she'd met. Or maybe she had just grown paranoid.

"Of course. Good day." Ariel wasted no time in walking away, leaving the Bosmer to stare after her. What had him so intrigued? There was something he had obviously seen that she didn't catch. And if there was one thing she didn't like, it was being left in the dark. Perhaps he knew about her? Had Brand-Shei told him? Was he well-traveled? He certainly looked like it. Ungrien was very obviously not a traveler or warrior. He had probably been born in Skyrim, or entered Skyrim at a very young age, softened by a life of labor rather than survival. Valindor looked to be a warrior or hunter, with the matching physique and mentality. He had analyzed her in the same way she analyzed her prey when hunting; watching for certain movements, reactions, emotions. She'd have to be careful around him.

Ariel entered the city, her eyes scanning the crowd of shoppers. It was a warm, sunny day, meaning most of the city was out browsing the market. Surrounding shop doors were propped wide open, including the doors to the inn. She could smell the fine scent of salmon steaks and venison from where she stood next to the forge. Her stomach growled and she frowned, realizing that she hadn't eaten since the afternoon before. After all, she refused to eat anything down in the sewer, no matter how careful they were handling the food down there. She'd have to remember to ask Svana for an apple.

With the promise of food, Ariel pushed herself toward the bunkhouse, her face set in a concentrated, purposeful stare in order to discourage anyone from bothering her. After all, she had started receiving strange looks once she removed her mask and gloves from the equation. No matter, though. Brand-Shei and Tythis would be active enough help in spreading her lie.

The door to the bunkhouse was open, and Ariel was sure it was only Svana's doing, begging the gods for any breeze they'd permit to keep her cool as she worked. The more Ariel had thought about Svana's situation, the worse she felt for the poor girl. She was sure she'd never seen someone so abused in her days. Sure, she'd seen people who were equally as tired in her travels, equally as overworked. But they were older, fighting to survive and often paying for their own personal decisions. This girl had not yet fully matured, but was working like a single mother of three.

Upon entering, she found Haelga tying her apron, preparing to leave. Svana was nowhere to be found, but Ariel had no time left to spare. It was nearly noon. Maven would be judging her for every second she was late.

"Haelga." The Nord woman looked up at her and scowled, able to identify her quickly.

"Oh, it's you. Come to extort more from me?" Ariel felt the corner of her mouth twitch upwards, threatening to slide into a smirk, but she bit her cheek. Instead, she reached into one of her pouches that contained the little stones.

"I believe these," she said, walking up to the counter and depositing them in front of the Nord. "Belong to you." Haelga grabbed one of the marks quickly, examining it in shock.  
It was wonderful.

"What? How…" she stuttered, her eyes moving to hers. "Where did you get these? No! Don't tell me! I don't want to know." She picked up the other two stones and shoved them under the counter, looking frantic. "Look, we need to keep this quiet…between you and me, ok? No one else needs to know about it." She looked around suddenly, as if searching for anyone who could be listening. "If word got out that I was practicing my Dibellan Arts in Riften, they'll run me out of town! Here!" She suddenly moved back into the room behind the counter, practically running. Ariel heard shuffling and some banging before Haelga returned, a scroll of parchment in her hand. "Take this!"

"I don't want your pieces of paper." She said, a little quicker than intended. After all, it was difficult to keep from laughing. The wicked woman was a mess, just from someone bringing her some cuts of sapphire. "I want you to treat your niece like a human."

"Did she put you up to this? Fine, fine! Here, take it anyway! I'll be nicer to Svana, just don't mention any of this to her!" Ariel barely caught the scroll as it was shoved into her chest. Haelga hardly waited for her to respond before she was running out the door, her face a deep red and damp. Finally she was able to let the grin form on her face, her adrenaline kicked up from the encounter. However, Ariel was now left with a useless roll of parchment.

It wasn't as if she didn't know what it was. It was a scroll, a support for casting powerful spells that mages of high skill levels often took advantage of. Ariel was not a mage of high skill. In fact, she couldn't even identify the magic that was woven into the material. It was a destruction spell, but that was where her knowledge ended. With a light shrug, Ariel shoved the scroll in her side pouch with her new books. Perhaps she'd find someone who needed it, or could offer her a nice bit of gold.

Ariel was about to turn and leave when footsteps running toward her could be heard. From the alcove, where the Dibella statue sat, Svana appeared with a huge grin on her face. The girl rushed at her, leaving Ariel little time to prepare as she was suddenly encased in the girl's thin arms.

"Oh, thank you! I heard everything downstairs!" Ariel squirmed in the girl's grasp, feeling claustrophobic and helpless.

"Not a problem…" she huffed, pushing against her. She just wouldn't let go!

"I bet she squirmed like a skeever when you pulled them out of your pocket!" Svana finally let go of Ariel, who took a deep calming breath and wrapped her arms around herself, stepping back from the woman. "I think things are going to be a lot different around here from now on, and I have you to thank for it!"

"I'm glad I could help," Ariel mumbled, keeping her eyes on the girl suspiciously as she waited for another attack hug.

"Here, I want you to have this. It was my father's, but I'm certain you'll put it to good use!" She rummaged in the bag at her hip before pulling out a pair of gauntlets. "I'll never use them, anyway." Ariel reached out hesitantly to take the gauntlets. They were fur, in poor condition with a weak enchantment running through the fabric. They were utterly useless to her.

"Are-are you sure? I wouldn't want to take something that belonged to your father-"

"Oh, I'm certain! Thank you so much!" Ariel looked down at the gauntlets, swallowing a groan. She'd never use them, and she couldn't just sell the girls gift. It was sentimental. With a sigh, Ariel nodded and shoved the gloves into her pack.

"Thank you." She said, forcing a small smile before she pushed passed the girl, still beaming in her direction.

"Have a good day!" Ariel moved outside, her eyes set on the inn. If she wasn't already late, she was close. With a sigh, she pushed her discomfort behind her. After all, she often didn't let anyone hug her, let alone a Nord. 

The girl was sweet, though. Mildly driven by revenge, but sweet.

Ariel was careful to slip inside the inn without gaining the attention of Keerava or Talen-Jei. The smell of food hit her for the second time that day, and she realized bitterly that she had forgotten to ask Svana for an apple. With a sidelong glance at some patrons eating, she continued her path. Perhaps if in the future she came back to visit Riften, they would forget all about the incident. For now, though, Ariel felt it necessary to avoid the two Argonian's, even if she was starving. She still had a chance to earn their trust back.

Moving quickly up the staircase, Ariel found Maven exactly where she had been told to report. She sat on a chair at the only desk on the upper floor, just outside the master bedroom. Upon Ariel's arrival, Maven stood to address her, both women standing their ground several feet from one another. Ariel had a blank stare set on the woman, who looked at her with interest. She strived to remain as neutral as possible, eager to be done with her dealings.

Hadn't she told Brynjolf she would choose her jobs? Why had she accepted, again?

"So you're the one," Maven drawled, her eyes moving down her form and then back up. "Hmm. You don't look so impressive." _Neither do you. _Ariel bit the inside of her cheek, considering her words carefully. After all, Brynjolf had warned her to watch her tongue, lest the Dark Brotherhood should be called. And while Ariel still wasn't quite sure what the Dark Brotherhood was, it didn't sound good.__

__"How about we skip the conversation?" Though Ariel's voice lacked any attitude, Maven's eyes widened slightly, as if shocked that anyone would speak to her in such a way._ _

__Apparently, she hadn't been able to watch her tongue well enough._ _

__"You're a firebrand, aren't you?" There was a tense silence that followed, and Ariel could feel a headache starting in the middle of her forehead. Finally, Maven spoke again, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's about time Brynjolf sent me someone with business sense. I was beginning to think he was running some sort of beggar's guild over there." Ariel exhaled the breath she'd been holding, her shoulders relaxing._ _

__"You don't have faith in the guild?" She asked, curious as to why Maven would bother backing the guild if she thought they were useless. The woman simply made a noise of amusement far in the back of her throat._ _

__"Faith? I don't have faith in anyone. All I care about is cause and effect. Did the job get done and was it done correctly. There's no gray area." The statement hung heavily in the air, making it hard to breathe. She wanted this meeting over with._ _

__"Where do I begin?"_ _

__"Head to the Bannered Mare in Whiterun and look for Mallus Maccius. He'll fill you in on all the details." Ariel froze, her heart pounding against her chest. Something had kept her tied to Whiterun, alright. Were the divines playing with her? She worked hard to keep her lips from curving upward into a smile. Athis…She would see her friend again. How many times had she wished she could speak to him and ask for his advice? Maven turned away from her, sitting back at the table._ _

__"You're still here?"_ _

__And then she was gone._ _


	12. The Spellsword

4E: 5th of Sun’s Height - 12:09 pm

“Well, where is he?”

“Rode out.” 

“What in Oblivion does that mean?” 

“It means the carriage won’t be back for a week. If you want to go to Whiterun, you’ll have to go on foot.” Ariel stared at the guard with wide, disbelieving eyes. The one time…the one time she wanted to use the carriage, and it had just left her behind.

With her coin.

“But I paid him to wait! Isn’t there anything you can do?” She asked, pleading the guardswoman with her eyes. The guard simply stared at her. Ariel was sure her own face was flushed with anger and embarrassment. That was her reward for trusting a stranger.

“Oh, sure. I’ll go run after him now.” Ariel narrowed her eyes at her mocking. “Either wait the week or start walking,” said the guard, with annoyed finality in her tone. Ariel huffed, looking out at the road in aggravation. Maven undoubtedly expected the job to be done immediately. Waiting a week was not an option, particularly when it was so important to the guild. With a sigh, Ariel turned and walked back into the city. The trip would only take about four or five days at worst, but she would need to stock up on supplies.

Well, maybe not. After all, she did have her potions. Ariel stopped just inside the city gates, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. So, she wouldn’t need to take a trip to the apothecary.  
Good. Elgrim was far too grumpy for her tastes. All the better, that she didn’t have to pay him a visit. Her armor was in fine shape, as were her weapons and arrows. But there was one major problem she had to address…

Food. Where was she to buy food?

She assumed the inn was still off limits. Honestly, the thought of facing Talen-Jei and Keerava’s glares kept Ariel at bay. True, she had not threatened the Argonian, but the innkeeper had clearly been afraid of her. Bersi was likely still sour, as well. Perhaps Svana would help? But no, she’d have to face Haelga. And there was no way she could chance seeing Tythis again. Not yet.

With a groan of frustration, Ariel pushed herself away from the wall. She’d created more enemies and awkward relationships in this city than she’d thought possible! She moved toward the inn, refusing to buy food from the Ratway. No, she’d much rather starve.

The inn was buzzing with life. Lunch was always a successful time of day. Keerava was sweeping around the room with plates of food and flagons of ale, not even sparing a glance at the nervous Mer. Talen-Jei was nowhere to be seen, most likely cleaning the rooms above. Ariel scanned the room, hoping to find Sapphire in some dark corner to no avail. She was truly alone, left to hope the Argonian had forgotten all about their last encounter. She let her eyes land on a table surrounded by drunk workers from the docks. Their table was covered in food. Surely, they wouldn’t miss just a bit of it…

“I recognize that pale skin.” 

Ariel froze at the voice to her left, the smooth sound familiar to her. She looked at the Imperial, observing his cool expression. He was obviously relaxed, no longer trying to get her to hire him. 

It seemed he’d finally gotten the message after the first three attempts. 

“Marcurio, was it?” Ariel usually never engaged in conversation with the man. She hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up, after all. Actually, if pressed, she would admit that his showy confidence _really_ got under her skin.

“So, you’ve remembered my name, traveler, but I’ve yet to know yours.” The spellsword held a lazy sort of smile, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. She’d observed that he hadn’t been hired since her arrival. Perhaps that was why he always advertised himself so loudly to her. After all, she hadn’t even seen that many travelers come through. 

“True,” she agreed as she leaned against the wall next to the door. Too nervous to walk farther in yet too stubborn to leave, she settled in for conversation. Perhaps she’d learn something at the very least. “You seemed quite interested in traveling with me.” 

“I can recognize a seasoned traveler. But it seems as if you are uninterested in my assistance.” Marcurio nodded to her in respect, and Ariel raised an eyebrow. Perhaps he was not so pompous, to respect her wishes and recognize her skill. Ariel let her eyes roam down to his sword, still set next to him as it had been when she first saw him. Did he ever move from that spot? What stopped him from adventuring on his own, if his boasting was not made of lies?  
A spellsword. He could be a useful companion, if he was the mage he claimed to be. Travelling with Larena and The Companions had not been so bad…  
He was a mage. Maybe he was her key to getting into that college, and to that book.

“I need to go to Whiterun. I paid the carriage to wait, but it seems he was not interested in holding.” Ariel scanned the inn, hoping that being tucked away would keep the still-busy Keerava from glancing their way.

“Looking for company?” Ariel tore her eyes from Keerava at his excited tone, glancing at him and noting his sudden change in expression. No longer did he hold a relaxed smile. Instead, she could see the beginnings of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

What was she doing?

“Perhaps, if said company were willing to gather supplies for the journey.” 

“For a modest fee, I’ll bring my formidable arcane powers to bear against your foes. What do you say?” A certain spark had returned to Marcurio’s eyes, likely at the thought of earning some coin. Or perhaps leaving his bench at the inn for more than an hour. Either way, Ariel nearly rolled her eyes at his excitement.

She wondered how much his excitement and ‘formidable arcane powers’ would cost her.

“I say that my idea of a modest fee is likely different than yours. How much?”

“Five hundred septims.” The carefree manner in which he named his price caused Ariel’s jaw to drop in disbelief. 

“ _Five hundred_?” She whisper-shouted, glaring at him. Despite her outburst, Marcurio simply stared at her in waiting, and she rolled her eyes. “Fine, five hundred.” Ariel dug into her bag, searching for her pouch of septims. She placed a medium sized pouch of coins in his waiting hand, keeping hold as he grabbed onto it, his eyes shooting up to meet hers. “But you keep your ego in check.” She let go as he smirked.

“Deal.”

With a nod, she pushed herself away from the wall, glancing up one last time to find Keerava behind the bar, scribbling in her ledger. 

“Gather some food, and whatever supplies you may need. Meet me by the gates when you are prepared.” She turned and placed her palms on the door, pausing before she pushed them open. “My name is Ariel.” She finally spoke, not looking to see if he had even heard her before she was out the door.

* * *

6th of Sun's Height - 7:20 am

* * *

Inhale. Keep the tension. Exhale, and--

“A-choo!” 

Her fingers slipped from the arrow as she jumped, her bow tipping downward and the arrow lodging itself into the ground no more than three feet from their seat in the bushes. Fifty yards away, the large buck flew from its location, disappearing into the woods in seconds. Ariel stared longingly at the now empty clearing, sniffling from her companion filling the silence of the morning. With a sigh of defeat, she stood and slung the bow on her back, walking forward to collect the arrow. 

“Did you kill it?” Marcurio asked, sniffling again and shaking his head, as if that would remove the dust from the air around him.

Ariel bent down and frowned at the arrow, observing the damage it took upon hitting the ground.  
“No. Your sneeze scared it away.” She dropped the useless arrow, turning toward the spellsword with an exasperated look. 

“I don’t see why you’re hunting. We have enough food to last us the trip.” Marcurio crossed his arms over his chest, raising a brow at Ariel. “Unless, of course, we continue to take little detours for deer and rabbits.” 

With a half-hearted glare, Ariel gestured for him to follow her before turning and heading back toward the main road. “It’s early. We’ll make good time,” she assured him, observing their campfire as they passed. Once, she had forgotten to put out the fire before an early morning hunt in Cyrodiil. She had come back to her tent aflame, with most of her supplies still nestled inside.

Yet another time when magic would have come in handy. 

Ariel glanced over at Marcurio, who walked slightly behind her. He was preoccupied with the map; likely retracing their route for the millionth time.

“You know, the roads don’t change.” Ariel didn’t wait to see his glare. She’d found that while Marcurio was talkative enough, business always came first. A common trait in her social interactions, it seemed. Ariel shooed the thoughts of Brynjolf from her mind.

“If you must know, I am trying to keep track of landmarks. We should be coming upon a fort soon. Look, right here.” He turned the map to face her, pointing at a place called Fort Greenwall. Ariel let her eyes skim over the map, observing all the different markings just before he pulled back.

“You’ve traveled quite a bit, haven’t you?” She asked, watching as Marcurio carefully folded the map.

“Only in the Rift and a bit around Windhelm.”

“So you just started life as a spellsword in Skyrim?” Her question was met with silence, and she looked over at him with curiosity. 

“You could say that. I’m looking to build up my skill as a mage. I may even go to Winterhold and meet the masters there.” His statement caused Ariel to stop and look up at him. Could it really be that easy?

“When would you go?” 

He stopped, looking back at her curiously. “What? Why does it matter?” Ariel didn’t respond at first, and Marcurio raised a brow. “You want to study magic?” He seemed surprised, and Ariel glared at him in response. He promptly put up his hands with a smirk. “Don’t look so mad. I just didn’t take you for a mage.”

“Well...I’m not. But I..I heard that the college has a vast library.” 

Marcurio raised an eyebrow at her, crossing his arms. “You, a seeker of knowledge? You sound like no adventurer I have met.”

“I like history.” She said simply, her eyes set strongly on his. It wasn’t a lie. Just not the entire truth.

Marcurio seemed to consider her for a moment, before his features softened. “Well, whatever your business is, it’s none of my concern. They wouldn’t allow you access simply for being in my company. You would need to demonstrate some ability.” 

Ariel huffed. Of course. “Great.” She mumbled, continuing on their path. Marcurio picked up pace to walk beside her as she continued. “I’m barely able to perform a simple healing spell. I’ll never get in.” She was speaking more to herself, but Marcurio listened intently, snickering as she sighed.

“Have you ever thought of the destruction school? Not every spell class works for every mage. If you can cast a healing spell, you have magical ability.” He said, a definite confidence in his tone. Ariel glanced to her right, meeting his eyes. She remained silent for just a moment, considering it. She had never tried destruction magic. As far as she was aware, her people were avid learners of restoration spells. She’d never heard of any Snow Elves who struggled with magic. But it was worth a shot.

“What do you suggest?” She asked, squinting her eyes at a building just in the distance. The fort.

“I suggest you try a novice spell that fits with your home environment. It is a feeling you will have comfort with, therefore making it easy to call upon.” he spoke this as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Maybe it was.

Ariel hummed in response, vowing she would think about it later. Her sights, however, were set on the fort. They were closer now, and she could see the distant outlines of people guarding the fort. The walked back and forth, stood on the parapets and guarded the entrances.

“Fort Greenwall. It’s a small fort, and the guards used to clear it out often. But the bandits just keep coming back.” Ariel looked over at Marcurio, surprised he knew this. He simply smirked at her. “You spend enough time in the tavern, you’ll have all manner of conversation with the guards and travelers.” Ariel rolled her eyes at his tone. He was proud of himself for having information at the ready. “We can’t go around it. We’ll have to clear them out.”

“Or we could just run straight through.” She suggested, shrugging her shoulders. They were close enough now to notice the barricades in front of the entrance. Marcurio looked over with an incredulous expression.

“What are you, a coward? I thought you were an adventurer.” He muttered, shocked at the suggestion. She glared forward. This was precisely why she didn’t like company.

“I avoid conflict when I can. I’d rather not spill blood for no good reason.” 

“If not us, then who? Would you wait for a harmless pilgrim to stumble upon the fort in an unknown land, and be robbed and killed? Would you wait for an orphan to come by and be snatched up and raised as a bandit?”

“Okay!” Ariel growled, gesturing toward the fort and stopping in her tracks. “Go then. Attack them. Good luck.” 

Marcurio smirked before he realized she had no intention of joining him. “Are you not going to help me?” 

At first, Ariel glared at him, ready to decline. But he was one mage entering a fort of bandits. She wouldn’t kill, no. But she could help him _not_ die while she stood back and watched.

“Let’s get something straight,” she said, turning to him fully. “I don’t kill. I doubt you can take a whole fort of bandits by yourself. it’d be suicide. Let’s be tactical about this--” Marcurio scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Bandits are desperate men. They have nothing to lose, and they fight like it. Stay back, I’ll handle this.” Marcurio moved forward without waiting to see her reaction.

Which was a shame. She wasn’t left slack-jawed too often. Nor did she stay in such a state. She growled to herself, rolling her eyes before moving off the road. If he wanted to get himself killed, that’s fine.

However, as she heard warning shouts from the bandits up ahead, she sighed. There was no doubt about it, the man was crazy. Or stupid. Regardless, she couldn’t leave him to his fate.  
She had to help. Reaching back, she grabbed her bow and made toward the fort. She couldn’t get around it, but she could perch on the rocks not far from it, providing cover and elevation. She shot across the road as sparks flew from Marcurio’s hands, climbing up the rocks with practiced ease and settling at the top. From her perch, she could see the entire fort. Archers on the walls, and men with sword charging toward her companion. 

Ariel knocked an arrow, aiming at a lone archer perched on the closest wall. A well-placed shot. Just to incapacitate them. No need to kill anyone.

Inhale. Keep the tension. Exhale, and...


	13. A Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS OFFICIALLY THE LAST CHAPTER that was edited. It'll all be brand new stuff starting in ch14. The style may change slightly, because...well, it's been a while! But my number one goal is for it to not suck so...here we go! 
> 
> Shout-outs for AO3 start in the next chapter! 
> 
> Enjoy!

4E 201: 8th of Sun’s Height - 5:18 am

_Screaming. Crying. The metallic smell of blood and the stinging of fresh wounds. Her muscles burning as she pushed forward, fighting her instinct to look back, to help. The hissing and growling bounded off the walls, filling her ears, flooding fear through her veins._  
They were dead. All of them. To protect her.  
**Why?**

Ariel bolted upright, the cover of her bedroll falling onto her lap as her left hand flew up to instinctively catch her hood. She was covered in sweat, her breathing ragged, and she fought to regain control as her right hand gripped the cover. For a moment she sat still, her senses refocusing on her surroundings. Cool and crisp night air. Silence, save for bugs and the distant calls of the nightbirds. The smell of threatening rain and burning wood.  
A nightmare.  
Another nightmare.

Ariel scrambled out of her bedroll, grasping for her pack just outside the tent, just barely able to wrap her fingers around a strap from her position. She pulled it toward her, ripping open the clasp and rummaging through for her journal. In her haste, she pulled out most of the contents, nearly looking over the book as she threw it out with a handful of other items. Ariel felt the memory of her nightmare slipping as she snatched up the journal, opening it roughly. Even if it was almost identical to the other nightmares she’d had this week, she quickly documented the dream as Kodlak had told her. With a deep breath, she shut the journal and carefully placed it back into her bag before proceeding to shove the rest of the contents in wherever they would fit. 

“Good morning.” Ariel froze, her hand stuck in her pack and still pressed against a book. She looked up to meet the eyes of a very confused spellsword, one eyebrow raised in question as he peeked through one flap on the tent. “I was wondering how long I should wait before I wake you up. You seemed to be having a nightmare.” Marcurio did not wait for a response before returning to his previous activity, which seemed to be cooking the last of their meat. Ariel felt her face become warm as a light blush dusted her cheeks, but didn’t bother to continue the conversation. She normally woke up before Marcurio. Perhaps this was a one-time occurrence. Hopefully. They had been traveling for three days. Today, they would make it to Whiterun before the sun reached its highest point. Assuming they didn’t run into more trouble.

Once her pack had been reassembled - organization be damned - Ariel crawled out of her tent and stood, stretching her arms high above her head and allowing her back one good pop! She could smell the venison cooking, and her mouth watered. Silently, as per usual, she sat down across from Marcurio, watching her half of the meal cook and waiting anxiously for its completion. 

“What was the dream about?” Marcurio asked offhandedly. Ariel looked up at him, only slightly surprised. He didn’t often ask her personal questions. In fact, the first two days had mostly been silence and very light conversation, with the occasional quip. However, he had begun to slide in personal questions in the middle of their increasingly frequent conversations as if it were natural. She didn’t find it very natural. But she did her best to satisfy his curiosity without revealing too much information. 

“Just a memory of something that happened long ago,” she stated simply, knowing it wouldn’t pacify him. She was surprised it took as long as it did for him ask the question, though she was thankful for it. It gave her time to recover and create a response that would satisfy him. Ariel waited for the inevitable follow-up, watching as he reached forward to turn the meat over the fire, so close to being done.

“What happened?” He finally asked. In some way, she was glad for an excuse to support her actions back at the fort outside Riften. Of course Marcurio hadn’t gone uninjured from the battle, though his healing spells were more than adequate to patch up his wounds. The mage hadn’t complained; However, Ariel couldn’t accept the fact that she had allowed his injury to happen. She should have killed the bandit who crept behind her companion, knife in hand and ready to embed it into Marcurio’s back. But as she had aimed her bow, a clean shot to the neck, she had hesitated. Luckily, the arrow she mistakenly loosed had lodged itself in the shoulder of the bandit. The sudden injury caused the bandit to cry out and turn wildly, his dagger simply slashing across the mage’s back. Marcurio had quickly disposed of the bandit, pushing the pain aside long enough to end the threat.

As Ariel prepared to answer his question, she could not help but remember the last time she had told someone about her family. She had spoken about it in hushed tones with Athis during one of Jorrvaskr’s quieter nights. 

_“The Nords like to say that Skyrim is rough. Like to make themselves seem tougher than the other races,” he had began, looking irritated. “Truth is, it’s tough everywhere. You’re not special for seeing your family killed. You’re unlucky.”_ Ariel could remember her complete shock at his words. At the time, she hadn’t been able to decide on feeling grateful or offended. But she had quickly realized that he was right. Everyone had their own tragedies. She wasn’t the only one to lose family or watch others die.  
_“Except I might be the last of my kind.”_ Her response had Athis rolling his eyes.  
_“What about it? Someone has to be the last. Anyway, to the Nords, all Mer are of the same blood.”_ Ariel stared into the fire, watching the flames dance and lick at the meat. She brought her hands up and pulled at her hood, feeling the slight discomfort as it put pressure on the tips of her ears. Athis hadn’t been so sympathetic, but he would be happy to see she wasn’t wearing the cowl, and that things were slowly changing. 

“I saw my family die, when I was just a girl. It’s...why I don’t kill.” Her eyes widened as she completed this admission, surprised with herself. She resisted the urge to look over at him and assess his reaction. 

Why would she feel the need to excuse her actions? There was something about this Imperial spellsword...something that prompted her to lower her barriers. She could tell he hadn’t been hardened by Skyrim, like some of the others. He was young and ambitious. Perhaps his inexperience in tragedy was causing a soft spot to form in her heart.

Perhaps his inexperience would cause her death. She set her eyes firmly on the fire. Why should it matter, what he thought?

“Oh.” He sounded awkward, and Ariel felt amusement pull at the corners of her lips, despite her disapproval. She expected Marcurio to prod, to seek as many details as he could and maybe keep them locked away as leverage. But instead of pressing forward, Marcurio simply stated, “Your meat is done.” Ariel blinked at the venison before reaching forward and grabbing the stick. He had already taken his off, more focused on food than she. However, as she took a small, testing bite of the meat, her eyes fluttered closed. He had salted the meat.

“This is delicious.” She muttered, quickly taking another bite of the meat. Marcurio chuckled in response, but otherwise made no comment. 

The two finished their meal and quickly cleaned up their camp. They had set up near a strange stone that Marcurio had called The Ritual Stone. He had insisted on the spot after their run-in with the Bandits at Valtheim Towers. Perhaps they could have made it to Whiterun before nightfall, but they had both been exhausted. She would be in Whiterun already, if it weren’t for her companion and his need to save imaginary bandit orphans. But after he had cleared the place, finishing those Ariel had wounded, and dug through their pockets and their belongings, Ariel had to admit that there was some reward in clearing the threat…

She just hoped none of those bandits had a family.

The walk to Whiterun was made in silence, only lasting another hour or two before the stables came into view. A warm feeling spread through her chest at the sight, and she hadn’t expected her lips to curve upward on their own. They rounded the bend in the road to the gates, and Ariel finally let herself take in the distant sounds of children playing, dogs barking, and hammer’s connecting with wood. The sounds pleased her, and she remembered now how wonderfully different Whiterun was from Riften. And cooler.

“Well, we’ve arrived,” Marcurio announced, and Ariel rolled her eyes. As if she wouldn’t have known, without his help. “I suppose you’ll no longer be in need of my services?” He had stopped walking, the city gates several feet ahead of them. Turning back, she found him awaiting her instruction. 

True, she did not need his assistance. Likely, she’d be staying in Jorrvaskr until her mission was complete, at which time she’d take the carriage back to Riften. 

Or…

“No, I’d rather you accompany me back, to be entirely honest.” Ariel had a plan. It was a plan she’d been formulating for the past three days. Or rather, she’d been debating it for the past three days. Marcurio was her ticket into that college! He looked surprised at her request, a dumbfounded expression on his face for only a moment. 

“Surely you wouldn’t choose to walk back to Riften when there is a carriage available?” 

“I could pay you some more, for your trouble.” She had plenty to offer as a result of their trip, after all. Marcurio studied her for a moment, as if trying to find some sort of ulterior motive before shaking his head.

“I believe I have plenty of coin from our travels. Pay me for a room at The Bannered Mare, and I will await your call.” He shot his charming smile at her before bowing sarcastically. With another eye roll and an amused sigh, she stuck her hand in her front pocket and dug out fifty septims. 

“Five nights, but don’t use them all at once. I’m not sure we’ll be here that long,” she warned, carefully placing them in his upturned hand. “Should you need to find me, for whatever reason, I will be housed in Jorrvaskr.” Marcurio widened his eyes before raising an eyebrow at her, and then narrowed them.

“What business would you have with The Companions?” Ariel let a tiny smirk appear in his vision before she turned and began to walk back to the gate, leaving him stunned behind her. Was it really so surprising that she wasn’t weak and helpless?

Ariel greeted the guards just as she always did in Whiterun, with a nod of her head and now a smile. She had missed their friendly disposition, compared to the harsh and uncaring attitude of the Riften guards. An attitude which, admittedly, helped the Thieves Guild immensely.  
Ariel only recognized one of the two gate guards, though he held no recognition for her. The guards had never seen her face, and honestly didn’t seem to be looking now. She was surprised that they seemed entirely uninterested, as if the oddity that she was meant nothing to them. Riften really was an entirely different place. Accepting the blessing without question, Ariel entered the city and smiled at the familiar buildings. She stopped just inside the gate, looking forward toward the Bannered Mare. Mallus Maccius would be waiting for her in the tavern to give her instructions. But it was still early; she could get away with spending a few hours in Jorrvaskr. 

With a small smile gracing her lips, Ariel moved through the streets of Whiterun, dodging children and workers carrying supplies as they passed. Few noticed her, and even fewer recognized her. Those who did asked her no questions about her face, or her absence. She was grateful for the few greetings she did receive, nodding in response to each. Ariel had taken a left at the Drunken Huntsman, not prepared to meet again with Anoriath. No, today her focus was on visiting a certain Dark Elf. As she approached the center of the city, where the dead Gildergreen sat, Ariel was excitedly greeted by a young man she had once helped months ago. 

“You’re back!” Lars Battle-Born ran toward her, arms outstretched and soon surrounding her waist. “You didn’t say good-bye!” He accused, though he still held her tightly. Ariel gently placed her arms around Lars, smiling to herself. When she had first arrived, the boy had been drawn to her mysterious nature. She had caught him watching her, if only for a second longer than he should. One day, when she was passing through to the inn, she had found Lars crying behind the general goods store. 

Then, she had given a stern talk to a certain little girl.

“Hello, little Battle-Born. Has Braith behaved herself?” Lars pulled back, beaming up at her.

“Yeah. She apologized, so we’re friends now!” Lars said, a little nervously. Ariel raised a brow at him.

“Friends, huh?” A dusting of a blush spread on the young Battle-Born’s cheeks, and she chuckled. “I’m glad you’re doing so well,” she said, kneeling down to his level and smiling brightly at him.

“Hello, traveler. Anything I can help you with?” A familiar voice sounded from behind her, a little suspicious, as it were. Ariel’s eyes widened, her muscles tensing. She didn’t even think of running into Jon. Why was he milling about at this hour when he was normally working? A nervous energy shot through her as she realized she had very well forgotten about one of the few Nords she spoke to! And now, she had no cowl to hide her very not-Dunmer-esque features. Ariel stood slowly, her promise to her father surfacing in her memories.

 _“One day, when you are older, you may travel like our hunters.”_ He had begun idly, showing her how to restring her worn bow. _“You may come across all manner of creatures and other Mer...and Men.”_ Ariel could remember how naive she had been, back then. She had turned to her father fully, curiosity in her eyes.  
_“Men, father?”_  
“Imperials roam these lands, and some Reguards, though most don’t travel this far north. The Nords, however…” He had spat the word as if it were a foul curse, his expression bitter. In her basic history lessons, Ariel had learned that the Nords were the cause for their small population. But how and why, she had little to no idea. _“You must promise me you will never reveal yourself to a Nord. They will not hesitate to end us, if given the chance.”_ Of course, she had promised her father. She had been terrified.  
But this was Jon. She had many conversations with this Nord. He was kind, poetic, and open-minded.  
He also felt her people deserved their fate.  
And he was protective! He wouldn’t wait forever for the hooded traveler to step away from his younger sibling. Ariel swallowed her apprehension and slowly turned to face Jon, her heart hammering against her ribcage as she prepared to defend herself.  
At first, he stared at her with a wholly suspicious gaze; one that raked over her features and slowly melted as he took her in.  
“Ariel? Could that be you?” Ariel gave him a tight smile, waiting for the suspicion to return, but it didn’t. He simply stared at her in wonder. “By Ysmir, I didn’t think I would see you around here so soon! And...you seem to be missing your cowl.” He seemed to work over his initial shock as he stepped toward her. “You should tell me about your travels!” He was staring at her with an intense gaze, one she couldn’t quite explain. She was certain it wasn’t attraction. No, certainly not. He had Olfina. Did he recognize her? Or maybe he was about to point out that she couldn’t possibly be a Dunmer? The multitude of possibilities swarmed her so quickly that she realized her silence was slowly creeping into suspicious behavior. _Respond, Ariel!_

“It is good to see you again, Jon. I’m here on business over pleasure, I’m afraid. However, I was just on my way to Jorrvaskr to visit, and maybe spend some time with my old friends. Perhaps if you are in the tavern later, I will spend some time explaining the awful experience that is Riften.” She said, hoping her words would coax him into letting her off easy. She was not prepared to string lies together. She was tired, and distracted at the thought of seeing her friends. Jon crossed his arms over his chest, but continued without question, seemingly satisfied with her promise of a conversation over drinks.

“You’re a day too late, I’m afraid. The Inner Circle left yesterday on some private mission, with no indication of when they’d return.” Ariel felt herself deflate the slightest bit. So, she would not see Larena. But Athis?

“Unfortunate timing, then. Thank you for the information. A good day to you, Jon.” Ariel said, nodding her head as he did the same. Jon had never kept her passed her wishes before, so as she turned back toward Jorrvaskr, she felt confident that he would not follow her with questions or idle conversation. Sure enough, she heard him call his younger brother back over, likely to avoid him following her. Ariel was grateful as she walked the path around the Gildergreen to stare at Jorrvaskr, her blood pumping through her veins as the antique wood of the mead hall demanded her attention. Ariel could remember how funny she thought it looked, at first sight. Why on Nirn would there be a boat for a roof? But now, a warmth filled her chest and pulled her forward, excitement buzzing through her veins as she placed her hands on the wooden door.

The hall looked just the same as when she left, if not a little less bright. The large fire in the center still warmed the hall in both lighting and temperature, causing a shiver to run through her at the sudden change. The table was meticulously set, as per usual, and not a speck of dust could be seen on the railings or shelves. Tilma was still around, then. Only she would be so meticulous in her cleaning. Ariel let her eyes drift over the floors, as if searching for the old blood stains from their last battle. However, none were found. It seemed the floors had been replaced where necessary, as she could see a slight change in color and age. Ariel looked back up at the table, her eyes drifting to Kodlak’s place. She wondered if anyone sat there, or if they kept it empty and set in his honor until a new Harbinger would be chosen. She felt a pang of sadness as she closed her eyes, the memory of the wise old man laughing and gifting a lifetime of advice almost so real that she could almost forget the past three months hadn’t happened.

Ariel moved forward toward the doors opposite the entrance - her intention to go to the training yard where most of the Companions spent their days. However, a thrill of surprise and excitement ran up her spine as she heard voices from the staircase she was passing.  
And one of those voices most definitely belonged to Athis!  
A smile spread across her lips as she turned at the banister, hopping down the steps with a giddiness she hadn’t experienced in a long time.  
When was the last time she had been this excited to see someone?  
Ariel pushed the door open, the voices suddenly turning into angry shouts, and her smile faltered for only a moment until the other voice was matched to a familiar face.  
Oh. Njada. 

“Well, I wouldn’t expect a _Dunmer_ to understand!”

“Why? Because we’re all thieving, honorless bastards?” he yelled in reply, the volume of his voice masking the sound of the door shutting behind her. Ariel looked to her right at the screaming pair, heated glares set firmly on one another. Neither had noticed her entrance. For the sake of nostalgia, Ariel smirked and crossed her arms over her chest, watching the scene unfold before her.

“You said it first!” Njada spat, and Ariel was certain that if looks could kill, Athis would have been burnt to a crisp. Whatever they were arguing about, Athis must have really angered the little Imperial.  
Despite having one blind eye and a quick temper, Ariel had to admit that Njada was a strong warrior. She had been surprised after their first sparring session that the girl was still considered a ‘whelp.’  
However, maybe it was her temper that kept her there. Ariel couldn’t imagine Njada stepping in as a mentor of any kind. The inner circle, in her eyes, represented different kinds of strength and courage and intelligence. Things that could be greatly muted in the shadow of anger.

“In case you’ve forgotten, I won our last fight!” Athis’s retort was met with a snort in response, Njada’s snarl taking on a feral quality. 

“One out of a hundred. Come on, let’s go! You and me, settle the score!” 

Ariel cleared her throat - so loud that it hurt actually - and uncrossed her arms as the two turned toward her with both surprised and heated gazes. She waved sheepishly as Athis’s face fell from anger to befuddlement. 

“Ariel?”

“Oh, it’s you. Back so soon from your calling for adventure?” Njada rolled her eyes and shot a glare at Athis before turning and walking away, brushing past Ariel to climb the steps. “We’ll finish this later, _fetcher_.” She spat, the door slamming behind her. Ariel was hardly surprised by Njada’s behavior toward her. She had only been away for about two months, now. She hardly expected special treatment. Underneath all that anger loosed by a sharp tongue was a family member, after all. A person who longed for kinship just as much as the rest of them.  
Ariel gave Athis a bright smile, walking up to him to wrap her arms around him in greeting, taking in his scent. He didn’t hesitate to put his arms around her waist and pull her closer. 

“Riften turn out to be worse than you thought?” His question made her laugh. A real, genuine laugh. A laugh she hadn’t laughed since she left!  
And she felt safe, again.

Ariel pulled back so she could look up into his eyes. “You have no clue. It’s terrible there.” She said, half-joking. Truth be told, while she still found the city to be a wretched place, she held just the smallest of soft spots for it. At least for some of the people, anyway. When did that happen?

“I look forward to a full report of your travels over dinner.” He said, smirking down at her. She pulled out of his grasp completely now, letting her smile fall.

“I’m only here on a job. Once it’s done, I’m going back.” Ariel stopped at that, hoping to avoid a misunderstanding that she was back for good.

Athis raised a brow at her. “A job? What sort of job?”

Oh. _Oh._ Well, of _course_ he would ask that! _Stupid!_ But she wasn’t ready to tell him...at least not yet.

Ariel shrugged, sighing in the most nonchalant fashion she could muster. Which would be pretty convincing to someone she kept at arm's length.

“Oh, you know...an odd job. A couple deliveries, some exchanges, nothing huge.”  
She was a bad liar, when it involved him. Athis stared at her with an intense gaze, as if daring her to continue. She felt as if she were shrinking under his gaze.

Now or never?

“I may have, perhaps, found myself involved in a certain group of people.” She said, giving him a sheepish smile. Athis’s stare turned into a glare as he stepped back from her.

“The Thieves Guild? The one I _warned_ you about? Well, in the future, remind me not to waste my breath.” Ariel rolled her eyes in response, crossing her arms over her chest.

“The pay is phenomenal. I’m only in for a little while. As soon as I get enough coin, I’m heading to Winterhold.” Yes, as soon as she had the gold. Though, she had plenty of gold. A little more wouldn’t hurt, right? No. He didn’t have to know that much. “Any random job around Riften wouldn’t pay me as much as I get for a _small_ job. I haven’t taken any jobs that I don’t want to take. The deal is I can say no whenever I want, and I can leave whenever I want.” Athis shook his head, his own arms crossed strongly over his chest. 

“How on Nirn does someone go from fighting with the most honored warriors in Skyrim to running with a group of pickpockets and skeevers?” 

“That’s a question I asked myself, at first. Turns out it’s pretty easy,” Ariel muttered, smirking in response to his exasperated expression. “It’s only temporary. Actually, it’s been beneficial for me. I’ve found out some information about my people.” She said, dropping her defensive stance and eagerly changing the subject. “Or, well, knowledge that will lead me to more information.” Athis followed her example, relaxing his stance and looking at her with interest. He knew how much it meant to her, to find anyone of her kind. “I met a merchant there; a Dunmer named Brand-Shei. Have you met him?” 

“I tend to avoid that wretched city.” Athis had a firm tone, and she knew it was to make a point to her that he didn’t approve of her new lifestyle. Regardless, she continued. 

“He told me about a book he came across. I need to get into the College of Winterhold. They apparently have an extensive library. Maybe they’ll have it.” Ariel couldn’t help the excitement in her voice, nor the smile on her lips as she spoke of the possibility. 

“Why travel all the way up _there_ when you can very well stay _here_ and send a letter asking for the text?” he asked, and Ariel could only stare at him, stunned for a moment as a solution was presented to her that she hadn’t even considered. Her cheeks warmed slightly as she willed herself to move forward from the shame her childish excitement and hope had brought her.

Yes, she could send a letter. She could have sent one when she had taken her leave from Riften. The courier had walked past her as she left! Not once had it crossed her mind.  
But Marcurio had warned her that the college was extremely exclusive. Only mages that could prove their worth were allowed in. Why would a random letter catch their attention?  
Then again, it wasn’t like she had a chance of getting in through magical ability alone. Even if her plan for Marcurio proved beneficial for her, she doubted she would obtain the skill needed to enter the college. No, she would have to convince them. Somehow, she would get in. Maybe if she brought supplies or, by the good graces of whatever gods there may be, found a rare item perhaps.  
Ariel’s thoughts came to a crashing halt. A rare item indeed. To a place of scholars, what was she in this time but an enigma? Her kin had been dead or unseen for so long, the sight of her would likely attract the attention of the mages!  
And the best part? No Nord practiced magic.

“Why send a courier to do a job that I could do better?” She asked suddenly, receiving a disbelieving stare. “Listen. I’ve been told that only those who are deemed worthy of the college gain entrance. They are scholars, Athis! One letter may not catch their attention, but a member of a dead, forgotten race?”

“You’re willing to be studied just for a book, one that may or may not help you in your journey?” Athis asked incredulously. Ariel had to admit, the idea of being studied in any manner did not sit well with her. But if it brought her one step closer to understanding her history, and finding others, it was worth a bit of discomfort.

“No Nords practice magic. I’ll answer their questions until they realize I know nothing, and then I’ll read the book and leave.”

“And if they don’t have it?” He finally asked. She hadn’t considered it very much, but he was right. There was a chance they wouldn’t have the book. What then?

“Then...I start over.” She said, shrugging as if it meant nothing to her, though she moved her gaze to avoid being caught in her lie. Never mind the pang of anxiety in her stomach, the looming sadness that threatened to accompany the thought of never finding that book.

Upon receiving no response, Ariel looked back up to find Athis looking into her eyes intensely, as if he had just noticed her there. She felt herself shiver at the intimacy of it, allowing herself the selfish pleasure of staring into the ruby red of his own. She almost jumped as she felt the palm of his hand slide over the cool skin of her neck, and finally his eyes explored her open hood.

“You’re not wearing a cowl.” He muttered, pushing her hood back to reveal her hair, knotted from three days of neglect. Had she known that upon her immediate return Athis would be ready and willing to further distress her hair, she would have found a way to care for it during the trek to Whiterun. At the moment, as he withdrew from her and lightly brushed some stray pieces away from her face, she found that she couldn’t be bothered to give it a thought beyond fixing it later. Athis didn’t seem to mind, or even notice. 

“I decided it’s safe enough, if I keep my secret close and stay away from the wrong sort,” she muttered, stepping closer to him while removing his hand and wrapping her arms around his neck loosely. She smiled up at him, and he returned the gesture, placing his hands on her hips.  
It felt right. As if she hadn’t been away at all.  
And finally he leaned forward enough to lightly place his lips upon hers, and she let her eyes fall closed as a bittersweet sense of pleasure rushed through her and her heart fluttered. She had missed this. She had missed him. 

In a few days, she’d have to leave again. She’d have to return to Riften and face the idea of never seeing him again. She’d have to leave this feeling behind again. But for now, Ariel decided that they would do what they had promised and make the most out of it. Ariel deepened the kiss and he pushed her up against the wall, all too quick and not quick enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment and tell me what you think!
> 
> See You All Next Update (SYANU)


	14. Dampened Spirits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well yes. Who is surprised that it took me forever to update? Oh, no one? Yeah. Sounds about right.  
> Those of you who have followed from FFNet shouldn't be, anyway. I am so sorry. If you haven't been following my tumblr, you wouldn't know that I've been busy and struggling with writing and just...everything. This summer is going by so quickly.  
> But! This chapter is here. And I can start on the new one. I've adopted a new method of editing that I will be using from now on, so the quality of my writing will hopefully improve as well!  
> Anyway, enjoy this update! I want to get another one out before the semester starts....actually I'd like to get more out, but I'm not promising anything. I will try.  
> Anyway, don't forget to leave your hate mail in the comments below. Also, let me know if you liked this chapter or not.  
> Enjoy!

4E 201: 8th of Sun’s Height - 7:39 pm

“Did she read the letter?” Ariel asked, playing with the leather on his armor. Her head was propped on his chest as she listened to his heartbeat, his deep voice rumbling through his chest. They had spent the last few hours together, constant contact accompanied by conversation and interrupted occasionally by heated kisses.

“Of course.” His left arm was curled around her waist, holding her close, while his right laid lazily across his stomach. Had she not missed him, she would have pushed him away by now. His body heat was overwhelming.

“And? How did she react?” She asked with an unsteady voice, biting her lip. One wrong move and she was screwed. Sure, she wanted to keep Larena as a friend. But above all, she didn’t want a new enemy.

“She wasn’t upset. Surprised, but not upset.” A wave of relief hit Ariel so hard she nearly stopped breathing, her hand curling around a strap of his armor on its own, seeking to be grounded. So, Larena really didn’t care about her identity. That was good. At least now, if they should cross paths in the future, there wouldn’t be any hostility. “So tell me about this job of yours.” The change in subject was so unexpected that it took a few moments of silence for Ariel to process that he’d even spoken. When she did, she was hit with the sudden realization that she should, in fact, be doing said job. She shot up from the bed with a gasp, nearly falling over in her haste. Athis remained still, stunned at her panicked movements. She shoved her feet in her boots before racing around the room, picking up belts and weapons and slinging her bag on her back at such a wild speed that she may have hit Athis. How many hours had she been in Jorrvaskr? Her conversations with Athis had distracted her too well.

“I have to go!” She threw her hood over her head, making her way toward the door when his hand wrapped around her wrist. She looked over at him, shifting anxiously. “What is it?”

“Will you be coming back?”

She paused, looking into his eyes. Would she? Probably, if this job wasn’t life threatening. Perhaps she could come back after it’s over, for a day. But how long would Maven wait for her to return? Regardless of her poor attitude toward the woman, Ariel knew she didn’t want to cross Maven. Ever.

“I don’t know,” she decided, gently pulling her wrist from his grasp. “I don’t know anything about this job yet, but I know I’m late. I have to go.” She paused, looking back at him, taking in his features again. For the past couple of hours, she’d stop to do this, wondering what would happen if she didn’t return to Riften. He had that effect on her, making her wonder what it would be like to just stay.

“What is it?” He finally asked, and Ariel simply shook her head, smiling.

“Nothing. Just looking at you. You should be used to that,” she teased, smiling for just a moment. “If I don’t come back, I’ll write you,” she promised, turning and forcing herself out of the room before he could respond. It had been such a long time since Ariel had felt such a close connection to anyone. She knew she couldn’t stay in Whiterun forever. But the feeling of being loved, protected, appreciated…it was difficult to pull away from something she hadn’t felt in so long. With a sigh, Ariel pushed through the doors of Jorrvaskr into the cool evening air. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the sensation of the soft breeze, smiling to herself. If anything, she hoped this job kept her in Whiterun for at least a few days. She didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to take the oppressive heat of the Rift, especially if this litter break of hers was just a tease.

How much longer would she stay with the Guild before moving on? She needed to start planning for her trek to Winterhold.

The familiar sounds of Whiterun’s streets filled her ears as she approached the market. Merchants were taking inventory of their supplies, having just closed their stalls for the night. And there was Anoriath. At the moment, he was occupied with updating his ledger, most of his unsold meats wrapped and stacked neatly on the stall. She paused, eyeing him for a moment before bowing her head and walking passed unnoticed. She didn’t have time for any more distractions. Gently pushing open the door to the inn, she was met with a rush of warm air, complemented by the scent of burning wood. A small crowd had already begun gathering, sitting around the fire with fresh flagons of mead and cheeses or sweets to enjoy. Mikael was singing a song about the Empire, to which some of the patrons began dancing to. Everyone looked to be in good spirits, save for a single man tucked into a dark corner, eyeing the rowdy group with distaste. Confident that she had identified her man, she walked over slowly and with purpose, resisting the urge to scowl at him as he glared at her. She slipped into the seat across from him, eyes resting on the dagger he had placed on the table in front of him.

“Can’t a man drink in peace?” he spat, picking up his tankard and continuing to glare as he took a deep drink. Ariel wanted to roll her eyes but thought better of it. She needed to do this job well.

“Maven said you’re expecting me,” she said simply, leaning forward in her chair and raising an eyebrow expectantly. He brought his tankard back down, continuing without any sign of remorse for his attitude.

Initially, Ariel had been concerned with the Thieves Guild armor. It was fairly uniform with everyone else. Wouldn’t everyone recognize her as a member of the guild? But even in Riften, it seemed that not everyone had identified guild members in armor before. Some knew immediately who she was with. Others just thought it was another set of convenient armor. Evidently, Mallus was a part of that demographic.

“It took you long enough to get here. I’m going to keep this short ‘cause we’ve got a lot to do.” Ariel narrowed her eyes at him, about to comment on his tone, but he continued before she had the chance. “Honningbrew’s owner, Sabjorn, is about to hold a tasting for Whiterun’s Captain of the Guard and we’re going to poison the mead.” She blinked, processing this. Well, that certainly was short.

“Why kill him?”

He scoffed, narrowing his eyes at her. “Not kill him. Just going to give him a bad night,” he responded, leaning back in his chair. As if that was all the information she needed. Ariel looked at him, expecting more instruction, before she realized he fully intended for that to be the end of the conversation.

“I’m assuming that you have the poison?”

At this, he seemed to perk up slightly, a coy smirk pulling at his lips. “No, no. That’s the beauty of the whole plan. We’re going to get Sabjorn to give it to us. The meadery has quite a pest problem, and the whole city knows about it. Pest poison and mead don’t mix well, you know what I mean?”

Smart. This was a well-mapped plan indeed.

“I see. What exactly is my role in this?”

“You’re going to happen by and lend poor old Sabjorn a helping hand. He’s going to give you the poison to use on the pests, but you’re also going to dump it into the brewing vat.”

“Sounds flawless.”

“If you deliver. Maven and I spent weeks planning this. All we need is someone like you to get in there and get it done.” He picked up his drink, no longer looking at her and instead scowling at his near-empty tankard. “Now get going before Sabjorn grows a brain and hires someone else to do the dirty work, and don’t forget to poison the nest.”

“Wait. I’ve never been inside the meadery. How do I get to the brewing vats without him knowing?”

He finished his drink, nearly slamming the tankard down before answering. So dramatic, for a man who was dead in the eyes.

“That’s easy. Both of the buildings are connected by tunnels made by the pests infecting the meadery. There’s an entrance to it in the basement storeroom of the warehouse that used to be boarded over. I’ve already removed the boards so the meadery would get infested. That’s where you should start.”

“There’s not a door I can go through, instead?” Ariel asked flatly, not very thrilled at the idea of crawling through tunnels filled with skeevers and divines-know what else.

“Sabjorn keeps it locked up tight. If you can get through that way, go right on ahead. But you’ll need to go through the tunnels to poison the nest.”

She rolled her eyes. Of course. She might as well use the tunnels.

“Why bother poisoning the nest anyway?” she sighed, her displeasure clear in her tone.

“Once Sabjorn is out of the way, Maven has plans for that place. One way or another, we don’t want the pests coming back. Consider it just more of the dirty work. I did my part getting them in there, now you need to clean them out.”

Ariel resisted the urge to scowl, standing up from the seat. “Fine. I’ll poison the mead and fix your pest problem.”

“Remember, Sabjorn will be needing a helping hand. Make it look good.”

Ariel waved halfheartedly over her shoulder as she turned, walking out the side door and stopping to observe the rapidly darkening sky. How much time did she have before the Guard Captain showed up? She’d have to hurry.

A light jog to the gates brought her out of the city, lit by the torches lining the city walkways. Travelers and those who worked outside the city walls were either wrapping up their work or heading in for a drink at the inn. She greeted people with a smile as she passed, nodding her head at the occasional familiar face. In the distance, the sounds of wolves howling could be heard. Ariel looked up at the sky. It couldn’t have been past nine thirty. The moons were low and dim. Still, as she moved farther out onto the trail and away from the city walls, she strained to see. With a silent promise to buy a travel lantern from Belethor before leaving for Riften, Ariel pushed to a run.

She’d passed the meadery hundreds of times in her travels. She’d even waited outside as Farkas picked up quite a few cases for Jorrvaskr during her time with the Companions. Now, though, as she stepped up to the building with a mission, she really looked at it. There were indeed two buildings separated from one another. Picking the lock on the secondary building would be an easy task to get away with, if she didn’t have to take care of the skeevers.

The main building was nice to look at, in line with most of Whiterun’s architecture. There was an obvious second level, and Ariel guessed that Sabjorn lived in the building. Most businesses didn’t use upper or lower levels for anything but living space or storage. Perhaps she’d be able to find some gold laying around? She’d look if she had the chance. She had no idea what reward Maven or the Guild had in mind for her, but she wasn’t going to walk away tonight empty-handed.

Ariel pushed open the doors to the main building, greeted by the sight of a man turning and glaring at her from where he stood, just in front of the counter. A quick sweep of the room revealed several dead skeever’s in a pile to the right of the man, droppings and a bit of blood scattered across the floor.

“What are you gawking at?” Ariel’s eyes immediately shot up to meet Sabjorn’s. “Can’t you see I have problems here?”

“I can see that, yes,” Ariel replied, keeping the sarcasm out of her voice. She had to seem genuine, and not let this man’s attitude get to her. “Is it a big problem, or-- ”

“Are you kidding me? Look at this place!” Sabjorn was shouting, throwing his arms this way and that, one hand holding a dagger while the other held a container. “I’m supposed to be holding a tasting of the new Honningbrew Reserve for the Captain of the Guard. If he sees the meadery in this state, I’ll be ruined!”

Ariel raised an eyebrow at the skittering of another skeever behind him, and he turned with a wild look in his eyes, throwing the dagger. He missed, a curse falling from his lips. He hadn’t struck Ariel as the type to be a skilled warrior.

“I might be able to help you, if you’d like,” she offered, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms across her chest. He turned back toward her, eyes narrow.

“Oh, really? And I don’t suppose you’d just do it out of the kindness of your heart, would you?” he gruffed, looking at her with an experiences bitterness. “I hope you’re not expecting to be paid until the job’s done.”

Ariel hummed in response. Maven or Mallus hadn’t given her instruction to refuse coin, and he was clearly desperate. “Maybe if you were more grateful for my generosity, I’d consider it. But, unless you’re willing to give me a little something up front, well… good luck with your pest problem--”

“Okay, okay. No need to make rash decisions. Here,” he shoved his free hand into a pocket in the apron tied around him, pulling out a bunch of free coins and placing them into her waiting palm. “There. That’s half. You get the rest when the job’s done. My only demand is that these vermin are permanently eliminated before my reputation is completely destroyed.”

“And how do you recommend I permanently eliminate them?” Ariel mocked lightly, hoping that it didn’t betray how thrilled she was. This was going very well. She pushed the coins into one of her pockets, unconcerned with the amount.

“I bought some poison,” he responded quickly, shoving the container in his hand up to her face. She reeled back, covering her nose and mouth with a hand. He continued as if he hadn’t just shoved a toxic substance under her nose, ignoring her glare. “I was going to have my lazy, good-for-nothing assistant Mallus handle it, but he seems to have vanished. If you plant this in the vermin’s nest, it should stop them from ever coming back.”

“Alright, I’ve got it,” she said, snatching the container rudely from his hand. Again, he showed no response as he turned and quickly grabbed his broom and a sack, likely to put the dead bodies in. “You mentioned someone named Mallus? The name sounds familiar to me,” she said, fishing for information as she stuffed the poison into a large pocket in his armor.

“Mallus is the best deal I’ve ever made,” he muttered, as if afraid someone would hear him. “Lent him a bit of gold some time ago I knew he’d never be able to pay back. Nothing like free labor to make operating costs cheaper,” he chuckled at that, unable to see Ariel’s scowl as he bent low to push skeever bodies into the sack. “Now I’ve got to clean up this mess, and you’ve got vermin to kill. Get to it!”

She bit back a sarcastic remark, quickly spotting and moving through the only doorway she could find. Finding only two staircases in the next room, she immediately took the set leading down.

The basement was dark, with only a single torch by the door to light the dusty storage room. As she shut the door, a hissing came from her right, and she quickly turned as a skeever jumped out of the darkness with its jaws wide open, set to bite. Yelping in surprise, Ariel kicked out, her foot connecting with the creature and sending it flying back to the corner from whence it came. Confident that it had been knocked out after hitting the wall, Ariel groaned and laid a hand over her heart, breathing deeply before she unsheathed her dagger and ripped the torch from the wall.

The storage room was long, covered in cobwebs and dust. The floor was littered with even more skeever bodies, and she found herself nudging aside several just to walk through. Sabjorn must have sprinkled poison all over the basement for so many to have died with no blood staining the stone. At the end of the storage room was what looked to be quite a large tunnel entrance, with shattered boards around it. Ariel carefully stepped inside, ducking to avoid a face full of cobwebs. She could hear the distant squeaking of skeevers as she walked, making her way through the narrow pathway before happening upon a larger section of the cavern. Skeevers jumped at her, and she swiftly killed them as they approached, feeling little remorse for their deaths. Skeevers were disgusting creatures, after all, riddled with disease and stealing precious items from stores. They reminded her of vampires.

Ariel moved through quickly, unconcerned for stealth as she cut down skeevers and spiders in her path, eyes peeled for any nests. Her right hand was covered in blood, and she tried not to let this fact distract her. She could be disgusted about that later. She’d need to buy gloves as soon as possible, if this was the type of work she would become involved in.

Ariel entered yet another large cavern, immediately stabbing two skeevers as they jumped at her. What she didn’t expect was the sound of someone shouting across the room. Panic momentarily washed through her, and she was frozen in shock for only a moment until more rather large skeevers ran around the corner, hissing at her. Using her torch, Ariel swiped at the ground to keep them away, bringing her dagger down on one as she kicked another away. The fur of another caught on fire and it screamed, a terrible sound that had her wincing as it rang painfully in her ears. As she faced the last two skeevers, a loud yell was heard across the room once again. Panicked, Ariel turned to see a large ball of fire coming towards her. With a yelp she leapt backward, stumbling into the stone wall as a terrible squeal was heard behind her. Paying no mind to the charred skeevers, she locked eyes with what looked to be a crazed man, dressed in nothing but an old pair of ragged pants.

“You ready to die today, huh?” he called, sending another ball of fire toward her. She dodged, sheathing her dagger and reaching back for her bow. Sweat dotted her forehead from the heated cavern, and she groaned in frustration as she was forced to dodge again, rolling to the ground behind a stalagmite as she readied an arrow. She could hear him approaching, the buzz of his magic in the air as he readied another spell. She nocked the arrow, taking careful breaths to calm her adrenaline before rolling to the side, narrowing her eyes and taking the shot as he lifted his hands.

* * *

 

Ariel leaned back against the rocks, squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to stop the pounding headache.

Watching Sabjorn get arrested was beyond satisfying. She smiled as she recalled the look on his face, shock and confusion, as he was led out the door by the guard captain. She was glad she didn’t have to follow them back to Whiterun; the captain didn’t look like he would make it that far, and she was certain it wouldn’t be a pleasant stop. She could still hear the loud rumbles of his stomach as he struggled not to empty its contents onto the counter.

The unconscious mage from the tunnels had been dragged off hours ago by the guards, long before Sabjorn was escorted away, and Mallus was now completely in charge of the meadery. He had been a grinning fool for their entire exchange afterward, though still as lifeless as the dead skeevers in the basement. He’d quickly given Ariel the key to Sabjorn’s dresser with the permission to take whatever she needed. The coin and decanter she’d taken were entirely necessary, right? Delvin would be pleased.

Opening her eyes, she observed the clouded sky as she reflected on the papers she’d found in Sabjorn’s room. One of which was a promissory note, marked with the same symbol as the letter from Goldenglow. Ariel had a bad feeling about the whole situation. Maven would want to track down whoever this person was. Worse, Maven seemed to like her. Would she be asked to work for her again? With a sigh, Ariel pushed away from the rocks, water gently moving around her in response. She’d soaked long enough.

Pulling herself out of the water, she was quick to dry off and pull on her damp armor. She was grateful for the clouds, shadowing Nirn from the light of the moon, as she tucked her still-wet hair under the hood. Lights moved in the distance; lanterns carried by guards like yellow spots in the pitch-black night. It had to be morning now. She could return to the inn, probably without seeing anyone. But…

The walk back to Whiterun was slow and peaceful. Guards never really engaged citizens or travelers in conversation, and still no one recognized her. The sounds of the night were near deafening, muffled only by the sound of her own footsteps. Still, she found it difficult to enjoy it in its entirety as exhaustion pulled at her muscles. Each step took just the smallest amount of determination to complete, and she found herself smiling in relief as she stared up at Jorrvaskr.

Everyone was sound asleep as she walked through the meadhall. It seemed even Tilma was no longer up and about, as she almost always was. Athis was in the bed he had always slept in, just to the side of the door. He was sleeping on his side, facing the wall. Ariel bit her lower lip. Should she take a bed for herself? She thought back to his earlier question, knowing he wanted to see her before she left again. Would he be happy, waking up next to her in the morning?

She couldn’t stay. There was no way Mallus wouldn’t contact Maven. The woman was far too prepared for that and, while Maven herself didn’t seem very intimidating, she had the entire Thieves Guild at her beck and call. She didn’t want to know who else was at her command. Best hurry back, or else not at all. Steeling herself emotionally, Ariel quietly removed all of her weapons, placing them on the dresser parallel to the door. Her eyes swept across the room as she checked that everyone was asleep before quickly stripping off her armor as well, leaving her in her underclothes.

Getting into the bed was a trick, having to step onto the mattress over Athis’ legs and slowly lower herself down. The mattress was scratchy against her skin, but she soon forgot the discomfort as she laid facing the Dunmer, carefully lifting his arm and scooting closer. Much to her chagrin, he woke, opening one eye lazily to see her sheepish smile. Without a word, he closed his eye and wrapped his arm around her, drawing her close to his strong body and comforting heat. Ariel sighed contently as she snuggled against him and under the thin blanket, head tucked under his chin. She pushed away her thoughts and worries, chasing after sleep that seemed much more willing to oblige her than usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so that's that. It's shorter than normal. I know. I'm thinking of going with this length from here on out. It's easier to write, and it flows better. So maybe you really will get multiple chappies from me before the semester starts! I hope so...
> 
> anyway....LEAVE ME A COMMENT and let me know if you liked it!
> 
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> For leaving me lovely comments to read: **futsch and cccerebro**! Thank you so much for your support!  
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> 
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> ILYA! SYANU!


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